Even the Good Die Young
by CheshireKitten413
Summary: Literally just an insert-character in the Walking Dead universe. Doesn't follow the storyline. I had to get this idea out of my head, so my character x Carl Grimes. Enjoy? Rated M for sexual scenes and cursing.
1. Misery Loves Company

The leaves rustled as I pushed through then, pursing the large group just ahead of me. They were seemingly fearless, travelling right on the road and barely blinking an eye to kill a walker. I was impressed, and a little intimidated. Nonetheless, I followed them.

From the past few hours, I had gathered that they had more people than I thought at first, but I didnt know for sure. All I knew was, it would be easy for them to take me out in less than a second.

At the worst time, once the group had gone silent, I tripped. A twig snapped and I tumbled into a ditch, clapping one hand over my mouth to keep from swearing out loud and using the other to catch myself. I immediately heard the drawing of weapons and attempted as quietly and slowly as I could to stand back up.

A woman's voice floated back to where I was, her voice sounding like honey, or caramel, or whatever that expression was. Her voice sounded pleasing, but not at that moment.

"Probably just a rouge walker. I'll check it." She volunteered, and I heard footsteps leading directly to where I was kneeling. I shoved myself to my feet, and got ready to run deeper in the woods when I heard a sword draw, just behind me. I whirled around and saw a black woman holding a katana, looking extremely threatening but calm.

Using what Missy had taught me, my hand went to the rifle on my back, but the woman shook her head. Then, heading to my last resort, I slowly put my hands up.

The woman studied me. "You're just a kid, aren't you?"

I stared her down, giving her no response verbally or though my facial expressions. I was still ready to run, but, seeing the pistol on her belt, figured it would be better if I stayed put.

"What was it?" A gruff, slightly accented voice came from the sparse trees and shrubbery ahead. I pleaded to the woman to keep quiet, but she simply turned her head back and stated,

"Gimme a second, I'll be there." Sheathing her sword, she stepped toward me and grabbed me by the arm. Her eyes gave away a sort of motherly look as she practically dragged me to the road. I tried to push her off of me, but her grip was like an anaconda's.

Pushing through the trees and into the milky yellow sunlight, I saw myself standing in front of a group of no less than a dozen people, the majority of them drawing their weapons when they saw me. The black woman let go of my arm and joined the group. I stood ten feet away and slowly raised my hands.

"Found her following us." The woman muttered bluntly to who I suspected was their leader, a weathered, middle-aged man with a scrubby beard. The man motioned to all the others to lower their guns until only he had me at gunpoint.

"Put your weapons on the ground." He ordered. I recognized his voice from the one who called to the lady earlier. My eyes scanned the crowd before I did.

"Now." He barked. My line of sight fell upon a boy that couldn't have been much older than me, a baby in one arm and his revolver in close reach of the other. As I slowly took my rifle off my back, I tried to make eye contact with the boy wearing a Sherriff's hat, but he wouldn't let me, looking away everytime I met his eyes. I cautiously set my rifle down on the road, then my kitchen knife from the self-made holster on my hip. I stepped back away from them with my hands up again, hoping I did the right thing.

The man glanced down at my rifle and knife, then back up at me. "That it?"

I nodded.

"How long have you been following us?" His voice had a commanding, leader tone to it. Something told me that Sherriff's hat was his. I snuck a look at the boy again, but he avoided my eyes, staring right over my head.

"Only an hour or two, I swear." I could offer no explanation as to why; they simply seemed like good people. Better people than everyone else I had met.

He looked back at a gruff, redneck-looking man with a crossbow behind him. The redneck gave him a slight nod and he turned back to me. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"How many...what?" I gave him a puzzled look. A graying woman next to the archer offered a response.

"Walkers. Biters. Whatever you call them, the ones who try to make a meal out of you if you get too close."

"Oh... I don't keep count that often, but... Can't be less than a dozen or two." I decided on, keeping my hands raised. He nodded.

"How many people have you killed?" This question shocked me a little, but I felt slightly guilty as I responded.

"My older sister Becky, and a man I tried to save." When he didn't respond, I figured I should elaborate.

"Becky was bit and wouldn't... Do it herself." I glanced down at the group, staring at the dirt I had scuffed up with my tattered combat boot. "And I tried to save this guy from... Walkers, is that what you guys call them? By the time they had all dropped, there wasn't more left of him than a torso and head. I couldnt just leave him like that, you know?"

A black man in the back row nodded. He was wearing the outfit of a preacher, but I dont know how anyone could be faithful in this world anymore. I scanned the other people's faces, but the only ones who seemed affected was the woman who gave me the description of what walkers were, the preacher, and a tired looking girl in a ponytail next to an Asian boy. The leader, however, was unfazed.

Suddenly, the baby in Sherriff boy's arms started crying. Naturally, my attention was drawn to the loud noise.

"You guys have a baby?" My voice softened. "What's her name?"

"Judith." The katana woman who originally found me spoke this time. The leader threw a glare at her. "What? If you're going to kill her, what's the point in keeping things quiet?"

"Youre going to kill me?" I whispered. The leader sighed and shook his head. The road group went silent. Trying to break the ice and make everything less awkward, I quietly asked,

"How old is Judith?"

The leader opened his mouth to speak, but the Sherriff boy spoke for him. "She's eight months old. Are you done asking questions about my sister?"

"She's your sister?" I asked, starting a question that I shouldn't have finished. "Who's your mother?"

I immediately looked towards the graying woman, but she shook her head. A quick look at everyone else proved I should not have asked that. The leader stared at the ground and the Sherriff boy looked at the sky.

"Sorry. Shouldn't have asked."

"What's your name?" The graying woman asked, her voice a lot kinder than everyone else's. I felt compelled to answer her.

"Beth. Well, Elizabeth, but..."

Everyone went dead silent.

"You...can call me Danny, if that' better. I can just... Use that name." I could feel the tension.

"We'll do that." The graying woman was the first to speak up. "I'm Carol."

I nodded a hello to her as the rest of the group began to introduce themselves. The Asian boy and his girlfriend were named Glenn and Maggie, their leader was Rick Grimes, and Sherriff boy was Carl Grimes. The strong man, keeping to himself, was Abraham, and the girl next to him was Rosita. A skinny, mousy girl introduced herself as Tara, and the mullet man beside her as Eugene. I figured he didn't even know how to use a weapon.

Among the last to tell their names were the archer, Daryl, and the swordswoman, Michonne. The preacher didn't say his name and no one bothered to introduce him, so I decided I'd ask later. The thin black woman in the front's name was Sasha, I learned. I figured she wasn't that talkative.

Once all the introductions were done with, I awkwardly stared at my weapons, still on the ground a few feet in front of me. "So...Can I pick up my gun and knife now or am I going to be shot? Cause I'd like a heads up beforehand if I'm gonna die today."

Nobody laughed. Jeez, are these people humourless or what?

After a few seconds of exchanged looks from Rick to Michonne to Daryl and back, Rick finally nodded. "Go ahead."

Relieved, I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder, returning the knife to its homemade holster.

"Are we...just going to stand here all day or...?" My gaze swept across the crowd as they exchanged glances.

"Well, we better keep going." Rick turned around to face the cluster of people. I wasn't yet ready to assume I was going with them for much longer, so I kept to the rear of the group as they began walking. As they went, I noticed they formed their own groups of two or three, much like schoolkids in a recess yard. But, unlike them, they didn't seem to talk much, other than the now-and-then comment of, "Watch your step" or "How are you holding up?".

Since I knew nobody here really wanted to talk with me, I stuck to just behind the very back group, which was mostly Sasha walking by herself. Every once in a while, Maggie would fall back to ask Sasha how she was doing, but Sasha would always wave her off, claiming she was completely fine. Something about her told me that she wasn't doing that good.

After about ten minutes, I noticed that Carl had handed the baby to Carol and was beginning to fall further and further behind, until he was just beside me. I gave him only a glance. After the awkward tension dropped, I heard Carl mutter softly to me.

"The only reason my dad didn't shoot you is because you're a kid."

I stared at my feet as I walked. I was getting that a lot lately. "Well, I'll thank my dead parents for having me born so late."

"How old are you?" Sherriff Boy pressed, trying to look inconspicuous by pretending to look around. I figured he didn't want anyone to see him conversing with the new kid; just like middle school.

"I don't really know. Must be at least fifteen by now." I scuffed my boot in the dirt, stepping over a twig. Carl went quiet, before softly saying "Me too,".

More silence ensued for a little while, which suited me just fine. I was used to being quiet by now. Carl awkwardly adjusted his hat, before looking up at mine. He leaned forward a bit to see the stenciling on the front, which was supposed to be a silhouette of a cat, but was most likely tattered and ugly by now.

"Nice hat." Was all he said. I nodded slowly, shrugging my shoulder to adjust my rifle.

"You going to kill me?" I asked calmly, my eyes trained ahead for the sight of any shelter. Carl didn't seem shocked by the question.

"I don't think so, unless you're bit." He scanned me over, and stopped at my bloody shoulder. I caught him staring and he looked away.

"Don't worry, that happened a long time ago."

"Walkers or people?"

"People." I peeled back my sweatshirt to show him the ugly, half-bloody hole from a gunshot wound the year before. I had it healed up, but I keep tearing open the scar and bleeding myself practically dry each time.

Carl winced visibly. "Why haven't you cleaned it up?"

"Haven't had time." I mumbled, setting the collar of my shirt back on it. I wasn't feeling particularly talkative at that moment, but I felt as if I could trust this boy. He was, after all, the first person my age I'd come across in months.

"How'd it happen?" When, I didn't respond, he added, "If I can ask, I mean."

I shrugged slightly. "An accident."

He let it go at that, since we had just come upon a dilapidated school in the distance. Giving me a quick wave, he jogged back up towards where his dad and Michonne were. The basic speed enhanced to about a hasty walk, getting faster as we neared the school. I forced myself to stay at the back, figuring the leaders wouldn't take kindly to the new one trying to fit in just yet.

Rick began to give orders to the group, staying turned with their backs to me. While they got in some sort of practised formation, I slipped away. Fast as I could, I sprinted towards the woods. I made it into the trees and circled around, finding a hidden part of the fence I could climb over without being noticed. Thankfully, I didn't hear any yelling, so I figured I still had time until they noticed my absence, however limited it may be.

I managed to hoist myself over the chain-link fence pretty easily, landing softly on the other side. The climb had taken a toll on my shoulder, but I simply stretched it out and continued on. Heading for the least noticeable building in the back, I drew my knife and kept my ears perked for any sounds. Luckily, I reached the heavy metal door without any distractions. Seemed school was out on Day One of Hell.

All the structures in this school were interconnected with brick hallways, but I figured that, with the lights out, it would be difficult to see in. Something in me hoped that I would find the cafeteria, maybe to be some use to the group. But, as I pulled open the surprisingly unlocked door, I saw that it was not the case.

Instead, I found myself in the dimly-lit backroom of what was definitely the school library. I recognized the filing cabinets and book carts from when I used to be a teacher's assistant in sixth grade. I ducked down behind the false-granite counter and listened.

Soft growls came from the right side of the room. It was lower pitched, so I figured it was an adult, but not low enough to be male. Peeking over the counter, I saw an overturned library shelf pinning a female biter to the floor. Judging by the amount of wet gore and dried blood, I figured that her legs and lower spine were shattered. That's probably what did her in.

Turns out it would be an easy kill, then. Hopping lightly over the counter, I set track towards the rotten woman. She turned her head toward me, glassy eyes locking on me lazily, her arms waving in pursuit of food. I crouched down beside her and waved.

"Sorry, Ma'am. You're going to have to go hungry today. No more nasty cafeteria food for you, I suppose." She tried to grab my arm, but was too late. I sunk the blade of my knife into her skull calmly, disregarding the hollow, damp squishing noise it made as I pulled out the knife. I wiped the gross blood on my jeans and stood straight again. A quick scan around the library proved no one else to be there, but you can never be too sure. Putting my index finger and thumb in my mouth, I did a short, loud whistle.

No shuffling, no growling, nothing. Still, I searched all the aisleways and the back room one more time. Nothing and no-one appeared, so I set to work barricading the place. After checking that the door to the hallway was unlocked, I pushed two or three metal library carts in front of the back door. The steel exterior of the door should be enough to keep any stray biters out, but you can never be too safe.

I pondered going back to rejoin the group but, after about ten minutes, there was no way I could excuse that long of an absence. A slight giggle rose in my throat. Just like normal school. And anyway, if they really wanted to find me, the group of them couldn't clear out almost the entire school in five minutes. So, instead of heading back out, I decided to search the library for anything useful.

As I doubted that the twice-dead librarian would have anything useful on her, I turned towards the back room instead. I had merely scanned the room, and there was no point in skipping it all together. As I pushed open the flimsy, wood-panel door, I instantly ducked down. Force of habit, but I suppose it helped. Almost the instant I ducked down, my sight fell upon a half-empty box of granola bars, no doubt for the kids who forgot lunch. I took off my bag and set my rifle down on the floor, shoving the remaining bars in. I also found a flashlight and scissors, which were added to my collection.

Not much more could be found underneath the counter, in all honesty. Nothing else useful, just some overdue books and inkpads and stamps, anyway. The file cabinets and shelves held no more treasures, and it seemed that the small discovery was all that the small library could offer. Nonetheless, I picked up my rifle and backpack and settled down on a couch in the corner of the room, on the same wall as the hallway door but out of sight of any windows.

I had only sat there, drinking off of a water bottle, for ten minutes before I heard the door open. Out of instinct, I pressed myself against the wall and screwed the lid back on the water bottle. I was given enough time to shove it back in my bag soundlessly before Carl pushed open the door. Pistol drawn and Sherriff's hat slipping over his eyes, he looked furious. He scanned the side of the library that I _wasn't_ on, and his eyes seemed to fall upon the dead librarian. He slowly made his way over to it, raising his pistol again.

Slowly, quietly, I picked up my rifle and tiptoed across the carpeted floor until I wasn't more but five feet behind him. I stayed silent while he observed my handiwork.

"Hi there." I said cheerfully when the turned around. He jumped and nearly shot me, I knew that, but I wasn't intimidated. After you're _actually_ shot once or twice, you tend to get used to it. Carl shot me a look that could melt the entire North Pole.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He hissed, taking a step towards me. I shrugged slightly, rolling my eyes, but he only nabbed my rifle while I wasn't looking and held it behind him.

"Hey, that's mi-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Who said you could go off on your own? You could still be a threat to us, and you're not getting away until we know just what you're up to." His voice was low and angry, but I wasn't phased by it. I blinked at him calmly, a little annoyed that I had to look up to his eyes. He was about four inches taller than me, meaning I just slightly had to look up at him.

"Are you just here to growl at me?" I spun around on my heel and began walking back to where I had set my backpack, putting a sashay in my walk just to be extra sassy. Carl wasn't dangerous and I could tell.

He let me get a few steps away from him before I heard him drop my rifle and practically run after me. I had expected that, but what I _didn't_ expect was him grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around so I faced him, then throwing me over his shoulder. He nearly bucked at my weight, but it was probably more that I kept kicking around that threw him off a little.

"I'M TO KICK YOUR ASS, CARL GRIMES!" I cried, trying my hardest to kick him in the dick.

"You're being arrested." He tried to keep his voice calm, but he was snickering. "Now, keep quiet, or do I have to shut you up too?"

I wanted to pretend I didn't know what he was alluding to, but I did. I hissed at him, glad he couldn't see my face, which had turned bright pink. I decided that I would be quiet for now, and stared at the dusty, freckled tile beneath us as he carried me back to where everyone else was. God, I hated this kid.

As we got closer to voices, I began to squirm around again, but Carl held me firmly over his shoulder. I had to admire the fact that he could carry me so easily, even if I was super skinny from not eating properly for nearly two years. I knew I was getting heavy for him when he nearly dropped me while opening the door. We were doused in light all of a sudden, and from what I saw I was pretty sure we were in a cafeteria/gym combination. Everyone else stopped talking when Carl entered.

I could hear the dorky smile in his voice as he stated, "I found her."

A few chuckles were heard, but I kept a scowl on my face. Carl heaved me off his shoulder and dropped me on the floor in a sitting position. "She was holed up in the library. Cleaned the place out."

Daryl and Rick had identical frowns on their faces. Michonne and Carol looked amused, along with Maggie and Glenn, but the rest look very indifferent to the situation.

"Told you we should've just left her there." Daryl growled gruffly, glaring at me. I glared back.

"That'd be a death sentence." Rick responded in my favour, but he still sounded hostile. Which was fair, I understood, but I didn't care. Carl stayed beside me, his hand on his holstered pistol, which I hoped was just for show.

"Tie her wrists together, Carl." Rick addressed his son, nodding toward his bag. Carl nodded in response and seemed to know exactly where the rope was. I glared furiously at him as he hesitated walking towards me until everyone had their backs turned to talk about me. He winked at me as he stepped towards me. He was apparently very good at knots, and tied it a little bit tighter than he probably should have. Then, Carl joined the rest of the group across the room to discuss what they would do with me.

Meanwhile, I awkwardly kneeled on the cold tile. The cold actually bit through the cuts in my jeans and seeped into my skin, but I didn't care. As the light in the room faded into darkness of the night, I started to doze off. Their group was still talking, but Carl and Rick specifically kept shooting glances back at me. I didn't mind and managed to fall into a light sleep eventually.


	2. Sheriff's Boy

I woke with a light snort as I was practically kicked over. As I opened my eyes I saw that I was once again in the library, lying on my side on the same couch as earlier. I sat up quickly and instantly noticed my knife was missing from its holster and my wrists were still tied roughly together. My shoulder was aching again and, unsurprisingly, my bag wasn't where I left it either. My glasses were off and lying on the table a few feet away. Good thing I didn't need them that badly.

At first, I thought I was alone in the library, but as soon as I stood up, I could tell I wasn't. Carl was sitting on the library counter with Judith in his arms, Carol going through the children's books nearby. Judith was cooing to herself, doing the regular baby exploration of sticking her fingers in her spitty mouth. It was almost cute, but I never really liked children that much anyway.

"…Good morning?" I asked quizzically, trying my hardest not to trip on the book-littered floor. One spill would mean I would break my nose.

"Good morning." Carol returned briskly, standing up straight and brushing her hands on her pants. She reminded me of my mother.

Carl gave me only a quick nod. I still hadn't forgiven him for picking me up last night, so I simply turned away.

"Are you guys just going to keep me tied at the wrists forever?" I looked down at the pile of young children's books, no doubt for Judith. I leaned against one of the support beams, the room seeming a lot brighter in the early morning light. It was cold in the library, but my jeans and sweatshirt kept me warm enough.

Carol sighed, and it became clear that she wasn't up to the idea of keeping a teenager hostage. "Only until we can trust you, I suppose. Don't take it to heart, though. Rick isn't a bad man; he's just looking out for us."

I shrugged. "I get it. There's not really bad people anymore. Just ones out to protect their own people, I guess."

Carol nodded her support and Carl awkwardly tried to play with Judith. Carol stretched and glanced at Carl. "Think you can handle a teenage girl with her wrists tied behind her back for a few minutes? I've got to go get some formula for Judith, and I can take her with me."

"Sure I can." Carl handed over his baby sister to Carol. Carol picked up a few of the picture books, and, waving goodbye with Judith's little hand, she pushed open the door and exited the library. I awkwardly cleared my throat once she left, facing away from Carl.

"So, I see the knots held up." Carl observed. I scowled at the doors.

"It's not like I pulled against them much; I just woke up, dude." Ducking my head and shrugging my shoulder to adjust my hat, I turned around to face Carl. "Why're you always being given full reign of supervision over me?"

He shrugged, plucking my hat off my head and taking off his own Sherriff's hat, replacing it with mine. "How do I look?"

If I were to be honest, I would've said that he looked like a cute skater boy, but instead, I scowled and stated, "You look awful, now give me my goddamned hat back."

He shook his head and straightened out my snapback on his head, closing one eye and sticking out his tongue at me. Since this was the most of flirtation I had received for over a year, I couldn't help the red blush invading my face. But, I did at least manage to keep a frown implanted on my lips.

"Here, for payment, you can borrow mine." He plopped the Sherriff's hat on my head and adjusted it, grinning. I rolled my eyes. "Hey, you actually look alright in that!"

"You used that word wrong." The hat was too big on me and I could hardly see for the brim slipping over my eyes, but Carl didn't bother helping me adjust it and I sure as hell couldn't.

"Nah, you look fine." Carl giggled. "Wonder what my dad would say if he saw that I was letting the 'Rebellious Troublemaker' wear my hat."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. "You know what, if you want to help me, you'll untie me."

He shook his head, winking. "Nope, you look cute when you're tied up."

"Wrong word use again." Here we go again. "Why're you so interested in me, anyway?"

"You are the first person my age in a while. Well, that hasn't gotten shot in front of me." He set his jaw and shrugged.

"Well, chances are that will most likely happen pretty soon." I sat down on the floor, knowing that there was no way that I could hoist myself on the counter next to Carl while my hands were tied behind my back.

"No, not unless you do something really stupid." He popped his neck and looked at me on the floor. "Which you're not planning on, right?"

I didn't answer. "What are you guys even planning to do with me?"

"To be honest, I dont really know. My dad has the tendency to not tell me the everyone's plan until the moment it's executed." He sounded a little annoyed at this, but I understood. I was forever being treated like a little kid in my last group.

"Do you think they're going to kill me?" I wasn't even scared of talking about my own death anymore; it was inevitable eventually.

"I hope not. You haven't done much wrong." When he saw the way I was looking at him, he corrected himself with, "That I know of, I mean."

"Yeah, yeah. Will you untie me now?" I stood and turned with my back to him, holding out my bound wrists the best I could. I didn't wait for a response.

"Nah." He grabbed me around the waist and yanked me down. I landed square in his lap with a surprised squeak. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around my waist, keeping me there.

"What the hell are you doing?" I squirmed around, annoyed and upset. He was apparently a lot stronger than he seemed and held me there easily. I thrashed around the best I could.

"I stopped you from escaping." He said triumphantly. I hissed and slowly began to stop moving around.

"Can I stand back up yet." I muttered, going red in the face. I felt Carl shrug.

"Are you going to run if I untie you?"

"Why would I do that? I don't have anywhere to go, nor do I have my stuff back yet." I pointed out, shifting my hips uncomfortably. When I glanced back, I saw that Carl's face was a little pink too. Well, it was his doing.

"Alright, fine. But you better stay right here." He pushed me forward a little and began to pick at the knot in the rope. I steadied myself with the tips of my boots.

"Like, right-here-right-here? To be honest, sitting on your lap is getting kind of awkward..." I admitted, staying still as the ropes loosened up and fell off of my wrists.

"No, not exactly right here. But stay in the room until someone else takes over watch." I pulled my arms out in front of me and stretched before getting off of Carl.

Good thing I did, because Carol walked back in right as I took a step away from him. Her gaze went from my freed wrists to the ropes still in Carl's hand, and she gave a little sigh.

"I suppose you don't need them anymore. I trust you to be smart enough to not get yourself shot." Judith hiccuped as Carol handed the baby to Carl. "Carl, go find Maggie and see if she can find out if Judith's cough is normal. I don't want her getting sick while winter is coming on."

Carl nodded and went towards the door while Carol headed towards the nonfiction section. I ran after Carl and stopped him before he got to the door. If he had a crush on me, I was going to exploit the hell out of it. Leaning on the doorway, I pulled him towards me by the shirt collar and made it look like I was going to kiss him. His eyes widened, but I simply gave him a peck on the cheek and let go of his shirt. With a wink, I skipped away towards Carol.

"Can she come with us?" Tara asked hesitantly when Michonne brought news of a supply run to a few neighborhoods found nearby on a map in the school office. Over the past three days, Tara and I had gotten well acquainted, and I learned that she had a romantic leaning towards women. I told her that I wasn't going to judge her for that, considering I had a fair share of girlfriends in the past.

Michonne glanced at me, her dark eyes unreadable. I stayed silent, shuffling the worn playing cards on the desk in front of me. Finally, Michonne looked at the door. "I'll ask Rick. Both of you, come with me."

Tara gave me a smile and stood up, going after her. After a few seconds, I decided to follow. Just this morning they had decided that I wasn't dangerous after all (with the sympathy of Carol, of course. I think she sees me as a little kid) and had given back my backpack. Daryl and Rick were still holding on to my rifle and kitchen knife somewhere, but I had known better than to ask where, or for them back.

Michonne led us to, appropriately, the principal's office. I followed behind Tara, hoping her support and Carol's was enough to let me go outside. Four days I a dim school is enough to make you wish you were outside, no matter how life-threatening it was.

Michonne knocked on the door. It opened from the inside, and she beckoned us in after her with a wave of her hand. Again, I went in only after Tara. The mousy girl seemed quite at ease being in a room with the "high council" of the group, but I surely wasn't. Although I felt uncomfortable as hell, I thought it was best to hide it.

"Tara said she'll go, but she asked if this one can go with her." Michonne gestured at me, leaning against the wall.

Daryl instantly shook his head. "No, she ain't goin' with us."

He barely finished speaking before Rick held up his hand. "Hold on. I think she should go. If she wants to run, that's fine. She'll only get eaten alive by walkers. It's a good chance to prove herself."

Michonne nodded in agreement. I was surprised to see that the usually stone-faced woman was on my side. Daryl was glaring at me, but Tara stepped in front of me protectively.

"If she can go on the run, then I'll be there too." Then, pausing, she asked, "Who all is going to be going?"

Daryl answered this time, his voice gruff and disapproving. "Me, Michonne, Carl, and you."

"And her." Michonne added, pointing towards me. Tara had a slight, relieved smile on her face. I wondered why, but didn't push it.

"Can I go?" I asked, looking over at Rick. He raised his eyebrows in what I thought was amusement, but his mouth remained a frown. Maybe it was just the scrubby beard that made him look so annoyed all the time.

"I said it would be good for you, didn't I?" His voice gave away a hint of condescension, but I took it as a yes. Turning towards Tara, I saw that we both had relieved, excited grins on our faces.

"Go get ready." Daryl stated, giving up on debating with Rick on whether I was trustworthy or not. "We'll meet here in five minutes. If you're not here then, you're not going."

I nodded and exited the room casually as I could, Tara following. Michonne, meanwhile, stayed in the principal's office. I gave Tara an excited giggle and eyebrow raise, which she returned with a smile. She didn't express her emotions as easily as some others did, but I still enjoyed her company a lot more than some others.

Abraham, for example, I tended to steer away from. No reason other than he always seemed to stare right through me, and it was a little unnerving. Glenn was nice enough, but I don't think he wanted much to do with me. Rosita tended to keep to herself, but would talk to me if I was around Tara. Eugene kept his distance from a lot of people, and I figured it best to give him his space. He always looked troubled, anyway, like a kid trying their hardest to figure out a question on a math quiz.

The rest of the group I got along with rather well, excluding Daryl and Rick. I don't think they're ever going to see eye-to-eye with me, I thought as I went through what was in my bag. I piled a lot of it in a corner of the classroom that Tara, Sasha, and I shared.

Among what I kept in my bag, though, was a screwdriver from a carpenter's store, a lighter, a half-gone roll of duct tape, and a small first-aid kit meant for cars. When I zipped up my bag and threw it on my shoulder, I saw Tara leaning against the doorway and staring into the hallway. I started walking towards her and she jumped in surprise a little, but had no reaction other than that.

"Come on, we should get going now, or else we'll be late." Tara was an odd character, but she was nice and didn't judge me based on what I did or didn't do, so she was hella alright in my book. We walked side-by side down the endless hallways of rusty, faded green lockers towards the principal's office at the end of the hall. I was tempted to stop and read the notices tacked up on the bulletin board outside the main office, but there was a time for that and it was not now.

As we got to the office, I realized that I still didn't have my knife or rifle. Deciding it was best not to panic, I took a silent deep breath and told myself that I would ask whoever was left in the office if I could have it back before we went out I the biter-infested open.

Once I opened the wooden door to the office, however, I saw there was no need. My rifle and knife were lying on the waiting chairs adjacent to the counter, with a scrawled note on it. My eyes immediately went to the bottom of the note, where Michonne had neatly signed her name.

I scanned the rest of the note. It read:

"I'm sorry that they took away your weapons; I know how it feels to be defenseless. I feel naked without my sword. I persuaded Rick to give them back, but I'll need you to do a favor for me, in return. If you can, stay with somebody on the run, whether it's me, Carl, or Tara... Probably not Daryl. He doesn't seem fond of you yet. Don't die on the first run, alright? Tell Daryl that I'll meet you all out there. I'm warming up by clearing the back field.

-Michonne"

I slung my rifle over my left shoulder and returned my knife to its holster. I felt much more protected now, and I understood what Michonne meant about feeling naked without a weapon nowadays. When I looked up to tell Daryl, I saw him leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, staring out one of the windows and smoking.

"Daryl." I called. He turned his head to me and gave me an unamused eyebrow raise. I waved the note. "Michonne said she'll meet us in our way out, since she's clearing the field in the back. As a warm up, I think she said."

Daryl shrugged, blowing a puff of smoke out through the side of his mouth and checking the clock on the wall. It apparently ran on batteries, considering it was still ticking. It was two minutes to eleven, which was mostly likely two minutes until we leave.

Thirty seconds to the mark, Carl pushed open the door. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"We ain't waiting. We're leavin' right now, in fact. You're on time." Daryl responded, snuffing out his cigarette on a heap of scrap metal on the principal's desk. I winced as the smell of charring metal rose to me, but stayed quiet about it. Carl didn't even look at me once. That was just fine.

As we walked along the hallway towards the main door, I checked inside my rifle magazine. Surprisingly, all the bullets were still there. I shrugged it off and set my rifle back onto my shoulder.

"Come on." Daryl muttered as he pushed open the one un-barricaded door. He held it open for everyone but me. He went out before me and left me to reopen the door myself. Tara cast me a sympathetic look, but I only shrugged and gave her a cheerful smile in response.

"Where are we going again?" I asked Tara in a whisper as I saw Michonne approaching. Her sword and clothes were spattered with biter blood, and she looked thankfully unscathed.

"Rick found a map yesterday of the whole county, in colour and everything. So he said we should try our luck in the neighborhoods. From what I got, we're going to a smaller one called..." She strained to remember. "Lavender Estates, I think. You know, the houses for the rich people who want to pretend they're country people."

I snickered at her description. "Sounds about right. Want to pair up?"

Tara shook her head regretfully. "Sorry. I'm better on my own. You understand, right? You were on your own for a while before this."

I nodded and refused to let the thought go to heart. She needed space to scavenge, I could understand that. "Sure. I'll go off on my own too."

"No you won't." Daryl, a few feet ahead of us, butted in to our conversation. "I don't care if I have to supervise you myself, you ain't going alone."

"I mean, if I have to, I'll stay with-" Tara began, but she was cut off.

"I'll go with her." Carl volunteered causally. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, if you all hate me that much." I stared off into the distance as I searched for first sight of the neighborhood through the trees. Michonne was taking the lead, and Daryl let her. I assumed it was better for her to take out any approaching walkers herself with her sword, rather than Daryl wasting an arrow.

After nearly ten minutes of walking along the wetly speckled concrete road, Michonne caught first view of the neighborhood. Hidden in the trees, I could only see the tops of the roofs of the houses. It was near a fifteen minute walk through muddy main road to get from the school to the neighborhood, and would take less than ten running. I made mental note of that.

"Alright," Daryl began as we came closer to the deserted neighborhood. "Michonne and I will team up, and Tara can go off on her own. Carl," He turned towards the Sherriff Boy. "Don't you let that girl out of your sight, you hear?"

Carl gave him a half-assed affirmative noise and a nod, casting a sly glance at me once Daryl turned his back. I bared my teeth at him, but he only smiled at my attempt of being threatening.

"Michonne and I will clear out those few bigger ones over there," Daryl gestured towards the nicest houses on the block, looking untouched by the apocalypse rather than overgrown grass and a few weather stains on the painted walls. "Tara, you choose yours."

"Uh..." Tara turned and looked around. "I'll take the ones at the end; the smaller ones. It'll take me less time to do the tiny houses, since I'm working on my own."

"We'll get some of the middle ones." Carl offered without even a glance towards me. I crossed my arms and stuck out my hip in defiance, but nodded. I would go along his plan, for now.

"Alright. We'll meet up here in an hour or so, then." Michonne stated, casting a 'follow me' look at Daryl as she headed off at a brisk pace towards the curve of the block. Daryl rushed after her.

Tara gave me a wave and cheerful grin before dashing off to a house a few feet away, stopping at the door to draw her gun and wave us along.

Carl gazed at me. "You ready?"

"If I have to be." I trailed after him as he started off for the median of the neighborhood. I could tell he was headed for the coral-blue one on the right, with a yellow-white picket fence. I'm sure it was once lovely and no doubt had some sort of garden in the back, whether it flower or vegetable, but the whole place just looked as sad and abandoned as an alleycat who lost their home.

Carl climbed up the steps and paused on the porch, putting a finger to his lips. Hand on his pistol, ready to draw, he turned the doorknob. It simply rattled. "Locked, huh?"

He nodded. "Let's try around back. If not, we'll smash a window or two."

I followed him through the creaky old wooden gate to the backyard, which was just as overgrown and ugly as the front. I was right though, there was a garden, but now it was overgrown with ivy tendrils and blackberry bushes. It was hard to believe anyone ever lived here.

Carl approached the glass sliding door, following the same protocol as he did with the front. I drew my knife silently, preferring stealth when killing biters. When he pushed the door's side, it slid open easily. He let out a relieved sigh and crept silently into the house.

Our first room was a dim, carpeted basement, the only light pouring in from the open glass doors. A stairway stood barren on the right side of the room. The basement looked like it was used for nothing but storage, since there were stacks of different sized cardboard boxes and plastic containers. They all looked completely empty, and we apparently had a silent, mutual agreement that it wouldn't be worth the time to look through all of them. So, we approached the stairs.

"You go first." Carl muttered to me, staying quiet. We still didn't know what was in the house, and I wasn't willing to put up an argument on this just yet. So, I hurried up the few steps as quietly as possible with combat boots on wood flooring.

We now were stationed in a living room, and the large bay window a few feet from us looked out into the neighborhood. The front door was locked on the inside, which explained why it wasn't opening from the outside. A quick glance around the room proved that the living room was filled with nothing but furniture and scattered kids' toys, not bothered to have been cleaned up. It was a little sad that the baby toys had a thick layer of dust on them.

"Should we go to the top floor?" I whispered to him. Carl shook his head.

"Give me a minute." I watched in confusion as he picked up a clean baby bottle off the floor, along with a small baby doll from the mantle. When I expressed my confusion with a weirded-out look, he explained that it was for Judith.

I nodded, understanding. Carl stared at me for a few seconds before hurrying past me and up the stairs. When I followed him, I saw we had come to the last floor. Here was a kitchen with a plate on the counter that could have been anything before, but now it was just a ball of mold. Gross.

"You check the cupboards, I'll check the pantry." He gestured to a closet off to the side of the kitchen. I nodded and pushed away the plate with a knife before opening one of the dusty, expensive wood cupboards. Inside was packages of crackers, jars of soup, canned vegetables, canned fruit, instant-meal boxes, and most surprisingly, powder baby formula. I shoved as many of the cans in my bag as I thought would be suitable, and added the boxes of baby formula in as well. A quick search of the other cupboards proved about the same, although there was one filled only with diningwear such as plates and bowls and things. One of the drawers had only stale candy, but I took a few bars of chocolate for anyone down on their luck in the next few days.

I closed the last cupboard and glanced at the pantry. Carl had slung his own bag back onto his back and nodded at me. "You good?"

"I am. Want to check out the bedrooms?" I pointed to the hall connected to the left side of the kitchen, just where it broke off into a split dining room. He shrugged and then nodded, gesturing his hand out for me to go ahead. I gave him a polite smile (as much as it pained me to do so) and set off down the hall. The first room was a half-bathroom, with only a toilet and sink. No medicine cabinet or cupboards, so I moved on.

The next room on the left side was at the end of the hall, and it was a master bedroom. The sheets were thrown off of the bed, and when I whistled, there wasn't any sound, growling or moving, to answer me. Turning around to look at Carl, I saw his eyes suddenly shoot up to mine and he gave me an innocent smile.

 _Don't know what_ that _was all about…_ I thought as I shrugged. "Want to check the bathroom or bedroom?"

"I'll take the bathroom; there's usually more interesting stuff in there." Carl stated. I stepped back and let him into the room, going in after to search the area. Once he had disappeared into the bathroom, I had begun to search the bedside tables. I found another flashlight, some batteries, and most surprisingly, a loaded pistol. I didn't have time to wonder why the inhabitants of the house didn't take it with them, because Carl had walked out of the bathroom. I shoved the pistol in my bag as unsuspiciously as possible, and apparently he didn't catch it, since he was looking down at his own bag. I zipped up my backpack and slung it on my back again.

"Next two rooms?" I asked. Carl gave me a brief nod, letting me go ahead of him once again. I gave him a skeptical look, but nonetheless, leaded on. The two of the bedrooms were closed, so I pressed my ear up against the nearest one and knocked. No sound. Cautiously, I turned the knob and pushed opened the door.

It was a blue-painted kid's room, I could tell that. A ceramic-frame twin bed and a butterfly dresser, I could guess that it was most likely a three- or four-year-old girl's room. It saddened me a little, that the room was so… abandoned. I half wondered where the kid who used to live here was today.

"Don't think too much about it." Carl patted by back reassuringly and made a quick scan of the room. So far, we'd have luck enough with the no-biter family, but I didn't expect it to last. We still had one room left, and there was another child unaccounted for. As Carl picked up a few more things for his baby sister, I headed back out into the hallway. I opened the second child's door without knocking, and was saddened to see the skinniest, smallest biter ever plunked down in a corner, snarling in a high-pitched tone. It tried to get up, but its knees buckled below it and it instead attempted to drag itself towards me.

Holding back a gag at the awful odor in the room, I stabbed the child biter right in the top of its cranium, pushing the limp body aside with my boot. I figured that the kid, no more than 10 years old, had starved herself by trying to stay in this room while the rest of her family evacuated. I knew I shouldn't, but I picked up the biter's body and placed it gently on the pink bedspread, settling a blanket over it and tucking a vomit-encrusted teddy bear in the crook of its arm. Then, without even looking through the room, I left and closed the door behind me.

Carl was standing in the doorway of the blue child's room when I left the pink room behind. He gestured me towards him, even grabbing my hand when I got close and pulling me into the kid's room.

"What was that kiss about yesterday?" He narrowed his eyes as he spoke, still holding onto my arm. His face got slightly pink at the thought of it, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Nothin' special, just a little something to express my gratitude for untying me." I puckered my lips as if I was blowing a kiss to him. Carl didn't find this funny, apparently, and his grip tightened on my arm.

"And you kiss people to express gratitude often?" He mumbled, his voice getting almost scarily quiet. I wasn't going to be intimidated.

Before I could respond, though, Carl pinned me to the wall with my arms above my head. I tried to get a word of protest in, but he shoved his mouth against mine. My thoughts went fuzzy as my face heated up in embarrassment. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, and I found myself kissing back. A few seconds passed and I tried to protest again, meaning to say something to make him stop but only moaning his into the kiss. Embarrassing moment number one of many, ladies and gents.

When he finally pulled away, after almost two minutes of what could only be described as making out, I saw a flash of emotion through his eyes as he stared into mine. I couldn't tell what it was, but his lips drew back to form a playful grin. "So, how do you feel about hickeys?"

"Hickeys?" I despised how my voice came out as a high squeak. I forced it to be a regular tone, even though my legs felt shaky and my stomach filled with excitable butterflies. "The bruises?"

"No, the other ones. Yes, those." Carl let go of my wrists and let them fall to my sides, sliding his hands down to take place on my hips. Even though I knew we wouldn't, I had the anxiety that we would somehow get caught.

"I couldn't hide them if they were on my neck…" I confessed. Carl smirked at me.

"That's why they're going to be under your shirt." His playful grin made me want to both hit him and pull him back to me to kiss him again, but I couldn't tell which urge was stronger. So, I let Carl choose instead.

"Take your bra off." Carl commanded. My cheeks turned beet red and felt hotter than a skillet.

"Do what?" I squeaked, my high, innocent voice sneaking back.

"Take off your bra. It'll be easier than me trying to take it off." I didn't know whether to trust him or not, but at this point, I don't think I was fully in control either. His eyes practically glowed lust as he looked at me, and for some reason unknown to me in my romance-drunk haze, I obeyed him. It was easy enough to slip my bra off under my sweatshirt and drop it on the floor. Almost as soon as I did, Carl pulled me into a kiss again. I was almost expecting it this time, but I was still a bit apprehensive. Nonetheless, I allowed myself to enjoy it.

Carl held the kiss almost expertly, distracting me so much that I hardly noticed when he slipped his hands up my shirt and slid them up my stomach. I gasped softly into the kiss as he cupped both my breasts and gave a gentle squeeze. I don't know why, but the cornflower blue of his eyes seemed so much more intense now.

Suddenly, he pulled away from the kiss. I opened my eyes again to see him give me a cocky smirk before dropping to his knees and titling his head to the side, pressing his lips to my stomach. I took a sharp intake of breath when his lips touched my burning hot skin. I could feel him breathing as he began to nip, lick, and suck at different places on my stomach, creating red and purple irregularly shaped bruises. Although this was much more intimate than I was used to, I couldn't lie and say that I wasn't enjoying it.

Carl had taken off his hat just before he pulled me into the room, and I ran my fingers through the waves of his hair once or twice. Once Carl had left hickeys all over my stomach and parts of my hips, he stood back up. I was almost disappointed that he was done, but I reached for my bra anyway. I didn't get that far before he pressed me against the wall again, holding my wrists at waist-level this time. I let out a soft squeak of surprise when he began to grind his hips against mine, his bulge obvious when it was rubbing against my crotch.

"Nn… Carl, st-op~…" I moaned softly, leaning my head back a little. Carl only took it as an invitation and planted kisses along my jawline. I moaned his name again, trying to push him away.

"Carl, pleaaase… they're going to get concerned if we don't come back on time…" I whimpered quietly. His rolled his eyes and let go of my wrists, stepping back. My cheeks burned with blush as I picked up my bra off the floor and attempted to put it back on underneath my clothes, which was a lot harder than taking it off.

Carl was so much less flustered than me, his cheeks only a slight dust of pink rather than dark red. He put back on his hat and adjusted it casually, as if he wasn't still so obviously turned on. I felt bad that I had ruined the moment, but it also made me feel like I was making him wait for next time. A little shiver of delight ran up my spine.

"Ready to go?" Carl asked, standing by the doorway, acting as if nothing happened. I grabbed my rifle and backpack, slung both on a separate shoulder, and nodded. Carl started out without me, rushing down both sets of stairs and out to the front yard without even looking back to check if I was following once. I had to practically run to keep up, but when we made it back to the meeting place, everyone was already waiting. Daryl looked like he had something to say to us, but Michonne spoke first.

"We were supposed to meet here nearly ten minutes ago. What took you two so long?" She asked, an annoyed tone creeping into her voice as she surveyed our messy hair and rumpled clothing.

I spoke before Carl could, this time. "Sorry, Michonne. There were a few more… family members… than we were expecting." I was much better at lying than telling the truth, and I guess the exhausted look on my face really sold it.

"I suppose that's alright. You better have got good things, though." Michonne reasoned, starting to walk back towards the school.

"We did." Carl promised. Once everyone had their backs turned to us and were heading back, we exchanged a wide-eyed glance. We really dodged a bullet there.


	3. Yesterday's News

"Tara?"

Tara glanced up from her hand of cards. I had recognized the voice and didn't feel the need to look up from my cards, knowing it was Maggie that called for her. Maggie caught glimpse of me sitting across the table from Tara, and gestured to her. The look on her face read that it was only for Tara to know, whatever it was.

It didn't bother me that people around here had their secrets. I knew most of them still considered me somewhat untrustworthy, which made sense. I didn't even get annoyed when someone went out of their way to avoid conversing with me. If I had to talk to someone, I'd find Tara.

But, since Maggie was leading pretty much my only friend out of the room to talk, it was now up to me to entertain myself. I got up from the low-resting table and pushed in the chair, habits from school still sticking with me today. I went to the first wall cabinet I found, hoping it held something interesting.

Unfortunately, however, I only found a few boxes of crayons and construction paper. There was also a box of markers, but the majority of them were dried out and crusty. So, I decided to take the paper and crayons instead. I plopped myself back down at one of the tables, beginning to doodle on a piece of blue paper.

After ten minutes, all that I had drawn was a sitting cat in black crayon and a distorted flower in rainbow. Although I was content with what I had sketched, it felt a little creepy drawing such happy things in a dark, abandoned classroom. Now that I actually thought about it, the entire school had a haunted feeling, as if the ghosts of the students and faculty were still hanging about the place.

I shook off my superstition with a shiver, rolling my eyes at how ridiculous I was being. My eyes shot up at the only sound in the room as the door opened, Carol peering in. I gave her a smile and a wave, setting down my crayon on the desk.

"Hi," Carol began, looking around the room. "Have you seen Carl around here anywhere? He was supposed to look after Judith while I went out on a run, but I can't find him and I figured he'd be in one of the classrooms."  
I forced down a blush. Carol didn't know anything about Carl and I, and neither was she going to. I shook my head casually. "Sorry, Carol. I haven't seen him since last night."

"Last night?" She looked a little confused, and a mite suspicious. "I thought you went to bed after helping clear a few of the classrooms late last night. Where did you see him?"

I licked my lips uncomfortably, then pretended as if I just remembered something. "Oh, no, sorry. I must have been thinking of the night before last. Still, I haven't seen him in a while. Have you asked Rick yet?"

She nodded. "I have. I suppose I'll just keep looking for him."

"I can help too." I offered, shoving the crayons into the box and standing up. "If you need it, anyways."

Carol gave me a slight smile. "If you want to. I'll be looking near the other classrooms and in the gym."

I waved to her in farewell as she left, letting the door fall shut behind her. After a few seconds, I put away the crayons and paper, leaving my drawing lying lonely on the tabletop. Once the cabinet had closed, I left the room, heading off in the opposite direction of where Carol said she'd be. I didn't look in the first few rooms, I'll confess, but I really didn't think I'd find Carl in there.

Just as I turned the knob to open the door to the infirmary, someone grabbed my arm from behind. I whirled around in surprise, but it was only the person I happened to be looking for, holding up his hands after he quickly let go of me.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Carl dropped his arms to his sides, looking me up and down. "What're you doing?"

"Helping Carol look for you." I said, tucking a loose strand of hair into my hat. "Where were you, anyway?"

"I was just outside." He offered no explanation of why, and I didn't ask.

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. "Whatever, let's just go get Judith from Carol."

Not waiting for his response of yes or no, I turned on my heel and went off down the hall. After a few moments, I heard Carl's rapid footsteps go after me and him catch up and match my pace beside me. I raised my hand in greeting to Glenn, who merely gave me a tight smile.

We had been walking and checking rooms for a minute or so when a question popped in my head. I didn't stop to think whether it was a good idea to ask or not, it just came out of my mouth. "Carl, what happened to your mom?"

I glanced to the side to see his expression had grown grim. Setting his jaw, he stared at his feet. "Let's not talk about this."

"I'm just curious. You don't have to tell me." I immediately regretted asking. His expression went colder as he spoke his response clearly.

"I shot her."

I knew I shouldn't have said this either, but I softly asked, "What happened?"

Carl stopped walking. The tension in that corner of the hallway was so thick you couldn't even cut it with Michonne's sharp-ass sword. He pursed his lips and leaned against the wall, pushing his hair back. "Are you going to want to whole story, or just the main details."

"Main details." I didn't want him to have to go through remembering every little bit of what happened. I had my own sob-stories to tell, and I can't say it's not painful trying to remember exactly what went down.

Taking a deep breath, he shortened the story the best we could. "We had a good setup at a prison, but my mom was pregnant and about to give birth to Judith. We got overrun by… by walkers, and we couldn't find Hershel in time."

He saw me tilting my head in confusion and calmly explained that Hershel was like their main doctor.

"The only other one there was Maggie, and-she's Hershel's daughter, by the way- she didn't know much about how to help someone give birth. I had to help too, but my mom… she couldn't give birth to Judith right. She had to have a C-section when I was born, and we had to do the same then. So… you know. She lost a lot of blood. I couldn't risk it with Maggie and Judith there."

We both went silent for a few seconds. I looked up to see Carl's eyes glistening with tears, but he refused to let me know it by turning his head with his hair over his eyes. Before I knew what I was doing, I had stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. He almost pushed me away, but otherwise, just stood there. I peered up into his eyes.

"I lost my mom too." I stated quietly and I stepped away from him. "Some jackhole shot her because she was trying to reason with him. Trying to tell him that two half-starved teenage girls and a middle-aged woman weren't what his group was looking for. But… I don't know. People are assholes when you get down to it."

He nodded grimly. I leaned against the wall next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. "At least the rest of us are still here, right?"

No response. I figured not to push the idea. He didn't shrug me off his shoulder, though, only muttered that we should be careful, in case someone sees us being affectionate. I gave him a smile and kissed his cheek. "Come on, then, let's go find Carol."

"You doing alright?" Tara fell back to me in the hallway, checking me over. I nodded, popping my neck and rubbing my shoulder. The scar had opened up again this morning, and Maggie had helped sew it up to keep it from breaking open again. I had shown her my thanks by slipping her one of the stale chocolate bars I found last week. She, thankfully, accepted it.

"I'm okay, don't worry." I gave Tara a supportive smile and hoisted my bag up on the opposite shoulder of my stitched one, carrying my rifle instead of slinging it on my back this time. Tara glanced down at my gun, looking back up at me with interest.

"I've never seen a rifle like that. Where'd you get it?" She asked, keeping pace with me as we went through the front doors of the school. I felt a little bit of a giggle rise in my throat as I was suddenly thrown back into a memory. I pushed it away as the memory went dark, becoming sad as I remembered the fate of the man in the remembrance.

"My dad helped me fix it up. Used to be my sister's BB gun when she was twelve. Didn't want it anymore, so my dad hollowed it out, only kept the shell of it, and then finally tried to teach me how to make it into an actual gun when I was eleven. I guess it came in handy, considering a normal rifle would be too big and heavy for me." I turned my gun over, examining it. I suddenly felt a great appreciation for the old Winchester that got me through many raids in the three years together. I was lucky I hadn't lost it before.

"Isn't that practically impossible?" Her voice held humour, but also disbelief. I nodded and shrugged simultaneously.

"Well, he had to change a lot of the gun; replaced the barrel, added on the scope, you know." I gestured to the parts as I spoke. "But it still works, and hasn't failed me yet."

Tara gave me a look of satisfaction, a grin pulling at her lips. "Your dad teach you how to shoot, too? Or did you just pick it up in the midst of all this?"

"Dad taught me. He said I was a pretty good shot, but still made me practice every few weeks to keep me sharp. Guess he was right, huh? I did need to know that some day." I smiled fondly upon the thought, forcing this memory not to go cold.

"My old man wasn't much of a shooter, I guess." Tara admitted, glancing down at her M&P, stagnant in the holster. "I learned how to shoot from professionals. I was training to be a cop, before all this. And you're right. It did come way in handy."

"Wasn't Rick one too?" We both shot a look at the man in front, leading us onto the main road. Tara nodded.

"That's where Carl's hat came from, I'd bet." She gestured to the boy about fifteen feet in front of us with a nod and lazy hand movement. I smiled a little bit.

"Do you think we'll find a good place to stay after this?" I asked Tara, glancing back at what could be seen of the dilapidated school through the trees. She stayed looking forward as she shrugged.

"I don't know. No way to know, I suppose." Tara kept her eyes forward, not even turning to me while talking this time.

We both walked along, silent, for a few minutes. I bit my lip as memories flooded back to me once I saw the sunlight peeking through the trees. Memories of my sister and I drinking hot chocolate in the car on road trips in the morning, out cat hunched on my lap as we went along… The day that my best friend Morgan and I built a makeshift clubhouse in the woods behind my house using branches and leaves… And finally, blood spattering around the room as I shot my sister square in the forehead.

"Isn't it weird how we see things now and instantly think of people we knew before?" I gazed at the trees around us as we went, staring longingly at the silent woods and wishing I'd hear just one bird call.

Tara let out a long sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know what you mean. I see reminders of my niece and sister every day."

"You had a niece?" I asked, careful not to sound too interested. "How old was she?"

Tara looked up ahead, straining her neck as if she was looking at something in the distance, although there was nothing but trees. "She was seven. Meghan was my sister's daughter. She was such a sweet kid…"

I felt a pang of regret and guilt as Tara rubbed her temples. I needed to stop asking people about their pasts.

"I'm alright, don't worry. That was a long time ago. It's best… It's best not to dwell in the past, alright?" She gave me a short, affirmative head bob.

"Agreed."

I giggled and wrapped my arms around Carl's neck as he pushed me down gently on the mattress. He looked so adorable, his freckles and his smile both. I leaned up just to peck him on the lips, but he pressed me against the bed before beginning to leave soft kisses down my neck.

"Come on!" Tara's annoyed voice jarred me out of my dream. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking past the row of seats to see Tara leaning over Michonne, trying to get the car started back up again. Rosita was sitting in the seat in front of me, and I was supposed to be sitting next to her, but I climbed into the very back to see if I could try to sleep.

"What's going on?" I asked sleepily, watching as Tara turned the key with a quick flick of her wrist, but the engine only made sputtering noises. Michonne slapped her hand away, stating that she can do it herself.

"Engine trouble." Rosita responded, glancing back at me. "I don't suppose you know your way around cars, do you?"

I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair in an attempt to smooth my bedhead.

"Maybe ask Daryl?" I proposed when I saw the other three cars stopped in front of ours. "He seems to know what he's doing. Mechanical wise, anyway."

We had stolen (or borrowed, however way you see it) a few cars from the rich people's houses, considering they weren't going to use them anyway. We had gotten about thirty miles with no luck, just forests, shabby neighborhoods, and fields. It was already early evening, probably no later than five o-clock, but the sun was already beginning to go down. I figured winter was soon on its way.

"Can you go ask him for me?" Michonne turned around in the seat while Tara tried to fiddle with the key again. Michonne rolled her eyes at Tara's attempts, and threw her head to the side to say for me to go.  
"Yeah, sure. 'Scuse me, Rosita." She scooted out of the way as I climbed over the seat and exited out the car door. It was a lot colder outside than in the car, and I pulled my sweatshirt around me tighter, checking to see if my knife was still in the sheathe before I continued towards Daryl, Rick, Carl, Maggie, and Glenn's car. Daryl was already leaning on the car outside, staring off into the woods. So I didn't alarm him, I walked up from his side and snapped to get his attention. He slowly turned his head toward me, giving me a grunt as a response.

"The car won't work." I said simply. "The engine died, I think."

With a groan, he stood up straight and began towards Michonne, who had opened the hood of the car to figure out what happened. I took his place, leaning against the other car, as he went to help.

A thump from the inside of the car made me jump and whirl around. Carl stuck out his tongue and closed one of his eyes in a playful look, making Judith wave at me with her little hand. I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Come on, Carl."

He chuckled; I could hear him through the window. I moved away from the door as he swung it open, stepping out without Judith. He had tucked her into a little crevice where the middle seat should've been, blankets wrapped around her. "Sup."

"Hi." I gave him a faux smile with an exasperated look. He ignored it and closed the car door behind him, leaving Judith in the car with Maggie and Glenn, since his dad was over talking to Carol in the frontmost car.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the door. Something about the casualty at which he did that made him really look like a Sherriff's son, even while ignoring his hat. "What's going on with your guys' car?"

Carl looked past me to where Michonne and Daryl were peeking under the hood. Tara had joined them, and Daryl was trying to explain something to the both of them. I shrugged with one shoulder. "Hell if I know. That's why they're all checking it out. I'm just the delivery boy."

When I turned back and saw the slightly amused smirk he was giving me, my brain suddenly decided to remind me of the wet dream I had about him not more than fifteen minutes ago. Even though I tried to force it not to happen, my cheeks turned pink with blush. Carl, who was staring directly at my face, had most definitely taken notice of this.

"What's with the blushing?" His tone had a teasing edge that almost annoyed me.

"I am not blushing." I protested, crossing my arms and sticking out my hip. "Maybe you're just going crazy."

"I could be." He chuckled. "But you were definitely blushing."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"I was not, Grimes! Now shut your mouth!" I glared at him with fake anger, suppressing a full-on grin from his flirtation.

"Or what?" His smug smile irked me.

"Or nothing. Get that dumb look off your face, Sherriff Boy."

"Don't call me that!"

"I will if I want to, Sherriff Boy!"

"You little-" Carl was about to grab for me in a playful way, but Rick had came over with a concerned look on his face.

"That's enough, you two. Do you need to be separated or will you quiet down before every walker in America is drawn here?" His question seemed centered at me, which earned another sly smirk from Carl behind his dad's back.

"We'll be quiet." I glared at Carl as I answered through a mask of sweetness. Rick still seemed uneasy about leaving us together, but he told us that he'd be talking to Carol for a little while longer and if we got in any more fights we'd be separated.

"You smartass." I hissed at him, crossing my arms again for dramatic effect.

He backed away from me a bit, giving me a superfluous shrug. "That's me."

"Just shut up and come with me." I looked around for anyone watching, and when I saw no one with their attention towards us, I grabbed his hand and ran off into the woods. I stopped not too far from the road, and pulled Carl toward me in the semi-darkness. He knew exactly what was coming next and put his hands on my hips as I put my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. Things started getting more hot and heavy as I moved closer and tilted my head to deepen the kiss even more, Carl sliding his hands under my shirt. His fingers were cold on my skin and I squeaked into the kiss, making Carl grin.

I pulled away as he squeezed my hips, biting my lip sexily. "What'll we use as an excuse for why we're out here together, alone, in the dark, without telling anyone?"

He only shrugged it off, backing me up until I was against the rough bark of a tree. He took off his hat and dropped it to the ground, pressing his lips to my neck and begging to nip and suck a lot rougher than before. Now it felt as if Carl was trying to break the skin, and even if it was closer to my uninjured shoulder, I'd still have a hard time explaining why I had bitemarks and bruises on my neck.

"Carl…" I whimpered his name softly as he bit down, dragging his teeth along my skin. I shivered in delight, practically melting in his hands.

My eyes closed as he continued to work on the bitemarks, taking just enough care so that they didn't bleed but going as rough as he could otherwise. I couldn't help whispery moans that escaped my mouth.

A loud gasp came from behind Carl. My eyes shot open and Carl immediately detached himself from me, spinning around to see who had snuck up on us. Tara was standing there with her hand over her mouth in surprise. "What were you two doing?"

My cheeks turned red, as did Carl's. I couldn't offer any explanation, and all he did was pick up his hat and awkwardly place it on his head. Tara moved her hand to show us that she was smiling; a knowing smile. "I won't give you two away, but try to be more careful. You're lucky only I heard you."

I don't think my cheeks could have gotten any redder. Tara rolled her eyes and gestured for us to come back with her. "Don't worry, I'll make up an excuse for you. Just try to make yourself look like you didn't just have a make-out session in the woods."

I tried to calm down my blush, but her comment made it even worse. But I realized that it was exactly what we were doing, when I thought about what she would've seen from her perspective. Me, pinned against a tree with Carl biting at my throat and his hands up my shirt. Yikes.


	4. There Goes the Neighbourhood

The next night, I lay on the scratchy surface of the wool blankets thrown over my bed and stared up at the ceiling. As much as I pushed it, sleep wouldn't come. Tara was out like a light on the other side of the room, snoring softly every few moments. Since I didn't want to wake her with turning on my flashlight, I instead stood up and left the room for her to sleep.

The cool night air felt better than the, honestly, pretty stuffy motel room. I stared out across the parking lot and into the trees. A few stray biters roamed along the edges of the road and into the ditch, but they were far enough away that we didn't have to worry about them yet. I pulled my sweatshirt around me a bit tighter with a quiet sigh.

"Can't sleep either?" Carl's voice came to me from a few feet away, and when I looked up, I saw him closing the door to his and his dad's room a few doors down. He gave me a two-finger wave and I nodded.

He came over to stand next to me, leaning on the railing and looking down. The level below was mostly concrete, with a few sprigs of weeds and grass poking through the ground as it split to parking-lot pavement. Once he looked occupied, I took a glance at Carl.

He looked a lot different when he was tired. His eyes weren't as bright as they were during the day, and he was only wearing one of his plaid shirts with a grey t-shirt underneath. Neither of us had shoes on, but at least I was wearing socks. Carl rubbed his eyes and stared up at the smoky black sky.

"Hey, want to see something I found today?" I whispered to him, trying to be quiet so we didn't wake anyone else up. He nodded, his movements slower than usual. I knew he was exhausted, but I wondered what was keeping him up.

"Follow me, then." I set off to the end of the hallway, stopping near the stairs. I hopped up and grabbed the second-to-last rung on an old metal ladder, pulling myself up onto it. I looked back down to see Carl giving me a tired smile, running his fingers through his hair. I smiled back before climbing up the rest of the ladder and pushing myself over the edge of the rooftop.

I waited until Carl had managed to catch up, grabbing his arm to help steady him when he nearly tripped on the edge. He looked around, then gave me a skeptical expression. "The rooftop of the lobby?"

I shook my head. "Are you up for some more climbing?"

Even though he confessed that he wasn't, I gave him a pleading, wide-eyed look, and he agreed. Letting out a small cheer, I stepped up onto a few perilously stacked crates and grabbed onto the gutter on the end to make sure I didn't fall. I pulled myself up onto the shingles and hopped over the edge there, to a larger stretch of rooftop, higher up. Carl followed me with a groan, but went silent when he saw what I had my back to, looking at him with a grin.

There was already a few spare mattresses up here, but after killing a few biters and throwing them over the edge, I arranged them into an actual bed-sort of shape. I wasn't going to tell him why the blood was on it, but he seemed impressed nonetheless.

"You planned this, didn't you?" Carl's voice was condescending, but his eyes were smiling. I gave him an innocent shrug and slipped my hand in his, leading him over to the mattresses.

I practically fell onto them, laying on my back with my hand still in his and staring up at him. "Come on, Carl, come lay down with me."

He rolled his eyes and, finally, after a bit more persuasion, he agreed and laid down beside me. I rested my head against his shoulder and looked up at the wispy clouds hiding the half-moon. "It's so pretty and peaceful, especially since there's… you know, an apocalypse."

"No kidding." He squeezed my hand gently and I felt a rush of happiness.

We lay in comfortable silence for what felt like ten minutes. I enjoyed just being there with him, somewhere where we didn't have to pretend we despised each other. With a glance at him, I began to hum softly.

"What're you humming?" Carl turned his head to look at me, and found me staring up at the sky with a smile.

"It's a song my mom used to play a lot when I was little. I don't remember who it's by, but I remember the tune and most of the lyrics."

"You should sing it." I couldn't help but notice that he moved a little bit closer to me. I hesitated, knowing that if I told him I didn't think I was that good he would still insist. So, after a shallow sigh, I began to sing softly.

"From underneath the trees, we watch the sky; Confusing stars for center lights; I never dreamed that you'd be mine, but here we are, we're here tonight…" I tried to keep my voice clear and remember the words, but it was hard to sing while laying on your back. Carl waited patiently for me to recall, and stayed silent until I continued singing.

Five minutes later, after breaks every few lines to remember the lyrics, I finished the song off. I glanced at Carl, and he had his eyes closed with a faint smile on his face. "Are you asleep?"

"Nope." His voice was slurred and he sounded extremely tired. "Just listening to you."

"You're falling asleep." I kissed his cheek and he made a soft sound. Carl looked like an angel lying there, but I wouldn't ever tell him so.

"Am not." He yawned and turned on his side, opening his eyes a little bit to see me and throwing his arm around me. "But you should sleep. Goodnight."

"Shouldn't we go back to our rooms?" I asked softly, cuddling up to him anyways.

Carl was already fast asleep.

"You did not!" I nudged Carl's arm, laughing, and nearly pushed him off the fence.

"I swear I did. You can ask Michonne." He grinned at me, pushing a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

"There's no way you ate a 120-ounce can of chocolate pudding in _one_ go. That's impossible!" Despite my persistent disbelief, I couldn't help smiling. The motel door opened and closed a few feet behind us, and we turned around nearly in unison to see Michonne stepping out and rubbing her eyes in the bright sunlight.

"Michonne," I began, twirling around and hopping off the wooden fence separating the motel from the parking lot. "Please tell Carl that there is no way he could eat one-hundred and twenty ounces- nearly a _gallon,_ " I exaggerated the word, giving Carl a deliberate stare. "In one sitting. Right?"

Michonne went silent, her hand going to her face and half-covering her smile. When she put it down and looked up at us, she rolled her eyes. "That's what you kids have been arguing about?"

"Only all morning." Carl pointed out. "Since she woke up and wanted me to tell her a story."

I turned to him to protest, but Michonne spoke before I could. "Yeah, he did do that. Whether or not it should be possible… you'll have to ask health professionals on that one."

Carl gave me a smug grin of "I told you so", earning another shove from me. He grabbed onto my shoulder to steady himself, but only managed to pull me onto the concrete walkway with him. I groaned as he practically landed on top of me.

"Come on, up you go." Michonne grasped Carl by his arm and pulled him up, then helped me back up as well. I cast Carl a playful glare, sticking my tongue out.

"So maybe you were right, this one time. But don't think that means I'll believe anything you tell me, Grimes." I masked a smile with frisky hostility. Michonne looked from me to Carl, her eyebrows raised.

"What?" Carl asked her, giving her a puzzled look. "…Did we do something?"

"No, no, you didn't." Her voice was thoughtful as she peered at both of us.

I felt very uncomfortable with her staring at us, but stood awkwardly still. I exchanged a glance with Carl, who looked just as confused and uncomfortable as I did. Then, in the blink of an eye, Michonne returned to normal.

"Come on, we should go wake the rest up." She set off towards the stairs, pausing on the first step. "You two wake up anyone down here. Then I'm taking you on a run with me."

Michonne pointed at me with a raised eyebrow, and I nodded agreement. Then, turning to Carl, I stated, "I'll get Maggie, Glenn, Daryl, and Carol. You go ahead and wake up Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene. I don't think they like me much anyways."

He only gave me a sideways shrug as a reply, but turned on his heel to go down the right wing of the open-air hallway. Wondering what the attitude was about, I turned and knocked on the first door I found. Glenn's sleepy groan of "We'll be out in a minute," was muffled through the door, but I decided to leave them alone and move onto the next room.

I listened at the door this time, and after hearing silence, I knocked. No response came, so I knocked again. Carol opened the door, looking around with expectancy until she saw me. "Oh…I thought you were Daryl."

"Why?" I cocked my head in puzzlement. "Isn't he in there?"

Carol stepped back to show me the empty room. "I woke up about an hour ago and he wasn't here. I figured he had just gone early-morning hunting. Can't say I blame him; these motel rooms are a little… claustrophobic."

"I agree. I couldn't sleep well last night 'cause of it." I saw the others beginning to group outside from Carl and Michonne's wake-up calls. Glenn and Maggie weren't among them, but I figured they'd come out when they're ready.

"Maybe we'll catch up to him later." I reassured Carol. "Michonne and I are going on a supply run once everyone's up. Do you need anything?"

Carol leaned against the doorframe, staring up at the ceiling in a thoughtful way. After a few seconds, she shook her head. "Nothing I need too desperately. You might want to ask Rick, though, to see if Judith needs anything."

I nodded and moved away from the door so she could join the group, who were beginning to wake up and get going. I met Michonne at the staircase.

"You ready to go?" She adjusted her scabbard along her shoulder. I gave her a gesture for "one moment", and dashed up the stairs to get my backpack and rifle, nearly knocking over a sleepy Tara along the way.

"Woah, kid. What're you so excited for?" Tara righted herself using the doorhandle as I apologized.

"I'm going on a quick run with Michonne and I need to get my stuff." With that brief explanation, I ducked into our shared motel room and nabbed my rifle and slung my backpack over my shoulder. Tara was already downstairs, so I had no danger as I checked the stitches along my scar. It was healing a lot better than it ever did before, and it hardly ever hurt now, not to mention the stitches held extremely well.

" _Now_ are you ready?" Michonne eyed my gun and the knife I was sticking into the sheathe on my belt. I nodded ecstatically.

"Then let's go." Without a word or wave to the others, she climbed over the fence and started around the building to the rest of the small town.

It was halfway to a convenience store that I realized I forgot to ask Rick if he needed anything.

Michonne led the way to the convenience store on the end of a deserted block; all the biters were either strung up gruesomely on chains in front of dwellings or stuck on large wooden picks. Though the sight didn't seem to phase Michonne, I was quite disturbed. Nonetheless, I followed her to the brick building with a dilapidated sign out front, advertising "fresh hot dogs and soda pop". Something told me that the 'Little Champ' store's food was no longer as fresh as it told.

Michonne peered through the glass door before putting her hand on the push-handle. A faint growling came from the inside, and while Michonne had her hand on her sword's hilt, mine had already drawn my knife and was holding it ready by my side. Suddenly, once the growling had died out most of the way, Michonne shoved the door open and ducked along the outside wall, letting the door on its own.

A bell chimed at the top, clinking against the metal frame. At the same instant the bell went off, shuffling sounded from inside and two biters smushed themselves against the glass. Michonne kicked the door open with her foot and the walking cadavers growled, taking heavy footsteps after her in unison. While Michonne distracted the front one, I grabbed the smaller one by the back of the neck and sunk my knife into its brain stem with a satisfying, dull crunch.

The other biter turned around slowly at the new sound, but soon earned a sword stabbed through its cranium for the learning effort. Michonne didn't bother to wipe the mushy brain matter off as I did, only pushed open the door again. The bell chimed, but nothing seemed to dwell inside the musty store that wished to trifle with us now.

"Are we looking for anything specific?" I asked once we had begun to look down the aisles. Michonne's voice came from across the store.  
"Any medical supplies, however minor they are, and food." I happened to be down the medicine aisle, and although there wasn't much left, I figured we could survive on three packages of bandage wraps, a box of band-aids, a bottle of Advil, and some tablets that dissolved and cured headaches. After that aisle was pretty much cleared, I ducked into the drinks aisle and took a few bottles of water as well, along with those cheap lighters that last about five flicks before they die.

"Michonne, I got some stuff, but it's not nearly enough for the whole group." I rounded the corner to see her staring at a map on the clerk's counter, tracing her finger along the roads. "Michonne?"

She looked up at the second mention of her name. "What is it?"

"What're you looking at?" I craned my neck to peer at the map. It had circles in black, crosses in red, and check marks in blue. A signature was scribbled at the bottom of the page, but it was smudged and otherwise too messy to read. Michonne folded it up and shoved it in her pocket.

"A map. It had no key, but something tells me that red ex's on places aren't good. We'll avoid those, alright?" She pulled off the bell from the door and set it on one of the shelves noiselessly, then pulled the smudged glass door open. I held it open for her as she left, and slipped through it as it was closing.

"Are we just going to the unmarked places?" I asked as we stepped over the cracked curb. The abandoned cars looked sad and hollow, but I wasn't going to bother with them now. Michonne shrugged.

"We'll see. Let's check there first, though." I followed her point to a police station across the way a bit. The gate out front seemed untouched, but we both knew that it also screamed there were untouched dead inside.

"Lead the way." I gestured in front of me and followed her as we walked across the eerily quiet road. To be honest, biters didn't scare me anymore, but it was the still human-like ones that threw me for a loop. It felt so much like killing a defenseless person, but I always remembered what Becky said.

"There's no such thing as a bad biter or good biter; they're always neutral, because they'll always try to take a bite out of you no matter what."

Becky used to play Dungeons and Dragons a lot before everything happened, and now that we were fighting creatures like she used to in campaigns, she would make light of it by judging each one we killed by skill level. Often she'd call me a Rouge.

I was so immersed in my memory that I didn't hear Michonne ask me a question, and was instead walking silent as she stared at me in expectancy of an answer. I had to awkwardly ask for her to repeat it.

"What do you miss most about before hell broke loose?" We had reached the cross-wire fences as she finished her question. Michonne began to look around, seeing if there was a break in the chains we could take advantage of.

"I don't know exactly, but… I miss a lot of things. Having tea with my mom when I got home from school, playing video games, drawing, feeling calm and safe no matter what…" I trailed off. Michonne gave me a slightly sympathetic look, but I tried to lighten it by saying, "And I know it sounds weird, but I really miss having a pet cat."

Michonne chuckled to herself while she stood back to inspect the entire fence. There wasn't any razor-wire atop it, so we could climb over if we had the skill. "Why?"

"Well, I used to have a cat way back when, and she'd follow me around everywhere." I began my story as Michonne began to climb up the linked fence with minimal sound. "To the bus-stop before school, to my friend's houses, outside, inside, wherever I went, she went too. I don't know, I suppose I just miss her loyalty. That, and her fluffy fur."

I went quiet as I followed Michonne's path over the fence. I dropped down beside her on the concrete, landing pretty evenly for once. She was sizing up the police station, I could tell.

"Let's see if the back way is unlocked; we could get in easier that way." She was surprisingly silent as she made her way stealthily past the side of the station. No growls arose from inside, but it was just likely that they were either stuck or roaming and waiting for a meal to walk right into their trap.

As we went around the backside, I didn't see any sort of a door, but there was a rather large window that seemed slightly ajar. I got Michonne's attention and nodded towards it, putting my finger to my lips. She seemed to understand what I was saying and sneaked over to the criss-cross patterned panes. She stood up slightly and peered in, her facial expression unreadable as to what she saw.

When she ducked back down, Michonne gestured for me to come over to her. I followed, and she spoke her plan to me quietly.

"Just inside there is about four walkers, all scattered around the room. It's dark and messy, but none of them know of us yet. We'll take out the two closest to the door quietly, and if all else fails, lead the last outside before offing them. Don't fire a shot until we know what we've gotten ourselves into, alright?"

I nodded my understanding and Michonne slowly pushed up on the top glass panel of the window. It gave way silently, gliding upward smoothly without making a sound. Michonne hopped up and over the windowsill, and since I didn't hear over-excited growls or her landing, I figured she made it in safely. I followed her, repeating the pattern less gracefully, but I still managed to be quiet enough to where the biters didn't take notice.

I made my way over to where Michonne crouched in a corner of the room. The rank smell proved that these walkers turned a long time ago, and weren't doing their best on their own. We're ending their metaphorical suffering, I figured as Michonne pointed to the one I would take out, a biter who was once a young woman in a police outfit. The pistol on her belt sagged as she stumbled about, dragging her down to where she'd almost trip over her feet. Betsy Bootlace, I decided her new name was.

As Michonne went for her own target, I slid across the floor until I was just behind Betsy. I suppose she heard me, because a low growl interrupted my perfectly placed stab as she tried to turn around. Thankfully, I managed to plunge my knife into poor Betsy B.'s skull, although she didn't seem as content with it as I did. As she crumpled to the floor almost in unison with Michonne's biter, the other two offending cadavers shuffled their ways towards us with their arms outstretched in a grabby-grabby motion.

Michonne and I were too fast for them, unfortunate for the dead. I hardly had to wrestle with the biter that had almost a foot more on me, considering my kick to his knees brought him down sideways. He crashed to the floor in a messy fashion and the next moment, the heel of my boot was coated in gross grey brain matter. Michonne gave me a slightly impressed look, much like the one a teacher would give their student when they get a good enough grade on a test, and I remembered she'd never really seen me kill a biter before.

Michonne made a quick once-over of the room while I watched the door, but the only thing in the room we discovered was a kitchen was rotten or overly-stale food. But, while Michonne searched, I looked through the small window on the door. My stomach turned over when I saw a corpse sawed in half and tacked to a door at the end of the hallway, along with several decaying, disembodied parts strewn across the tiled floor. Still, only three biters in total roamed in the hall. One was chewing on a severed hand, one was crawling around on the floor with one of its legs missing, and the last one was simply aimlessly walking.

"How many?" Michonne came up behind me and startled me, making me jump in surprise. "Think we can take 'em?"

I nodded. "There's only three, and one is busy with a meal. He's got a good handful, I guess you could say."

Yes, making puns about the deceased is alright, kids. Ignoring my joke, Michonne pushed open the door. It made a creaking noise, which instantly alerted all the biters in the hall. All three made their way towards me, and I immediately busied myself with smashing in the crawler's skull. The biter with the snack was too far away to be a threat just yet, but he'd be here in due time. I heard Michonne's sword slice through the cranium of a biter behind me, and I went towards the snacking one. James, he'd be called, I decided in a split second before his face was impaled by my knife.

"Where to first?" I mumbled to Michonne once James lay in a spread heap on the bloodstained tile.

"That one." She pointed to a room labelled 'armoury', and I knew her plan in a heartbeat. We were all running quite low on ammo, considering all the biters we had to chew through to clear out that motel yesterday afternoon before we settled in. Since this place seemed relatively untouched, there was a good chance that the weapons inside were as well.

"Agreed. Want to keep watch, or should I?"

"You can; I'll know what we need, anyway." Michonne crept down the hallway, just in case of more biters that heard our little battle with the hall-dwelling corpses. A quick glimpse in the checkered window proved there to only be one walker in the room, but he just so happened to be fully-outfitted in riot gear. Apparently, Officer Overcompensation didn't learn that police clothing couldn't keep you safe from a biter. But, unfortunately for us, that meant it would take double for us to distract the armoured cadaver.

"I'll distract him, you find the weak spot behind his neck." I whispered to Michonne before slowly creaking the door open, giving her zero time to respond on whether my idea was good or not. Either way, he couldn't bite us, considering that the helmet's shield covered his entire face.  
As I slipped into the room, Officer Overcompensation immediately turned to face me. He stumbled clumsily towards the door, where Michonne had managed to disappear from the biter's radar just behind him. It only took me a slight jog around the small room to get him to track me, and allow Michonne to access the back of his head. I didn't stop calling to him for his attention until Overcompensation's body had gone limp, skewered on Michonne's sword.

His body dropped to the ground, and a quick once-over proved that the gear on him was too embedded in him and fucked-up to take with us, which wasn't much of a bummer. It was too bulky, anyway, and wouldn't do so well in transport. Instead, after taking the few cartons of ammunition left in the grimy lockers, we turned our attention towards a door on the left side, leading into what might be some sort of safe.

There wasn't a window on the door this time; it was just a solid piece of steel with a push-type bar on it. After Michonne and I exchanged a 'what could go wrong' look, I pushed the door open.

It didn't budge, but an alarm immediately started blaring. It seemed much louder in that room than others, and my eyes went wide at realization at what that would mean. Any biters we'd managed to outsmart on the road were now going to be drawn to the police station, and in turn, this room. Michonne thought quicker than I did and bolted back to the first room we cleared, practically dragging me along until I found my feet again and ran alongside her. She shoved the door open and nearly slipped on one of the dead biters, ducking out of the room through the window. I followed best I could, tripping and landing awkwardly on my ankle once I had gotten out of the window. Michonne only gave me a glance to make sure I was alright. I nodded, and she ran towards our starting path.

My ankle throbbed in pain every time I put pressure on it, but the adrenaline of the moment kicked in as I saw biters beginning to group behind and stumble quickly towards us and it wasn't hard for me to ignore the pain. Although Michonne was faster than me, she always looked back every now and then to make sure I was still following. I'd nod whenever she did, trying to show her that I was alright. Once we got out of the town and into the woods, however, it seemed that the biters no longer had any interest in us.

I slowed down before Michonne did, putting my hands on my knees and panting. She stopped a few moments after I did, calming herself by leaning against a tree. We both stayed that way until we had caught our breath, and even a few minutes after.

"That… was wild." I couldn't help a little bit of a laugh as I looked up with a smile. "I haven't felt that much of an adrenaline rush in a while."

"It was definitely… something." After agreeing with me, she looked a bit closer at me. "Are you doing okay?"

I nodded. "Probably just cracked my ankle weird or something- no big deal. If I can run that much on a sprained ankle, no doubt I'm fine."

"Good point." Michonne looked around, her gaze sweeping through the trees. "We should get going soon; It's near sunhigh."

I nodded. "Let's take it slower this time, though. I might've made it through over half that town by sprinting, but I don't think my body will thank me if I have to do more fast-paced running too soon."

Michonne started off, following the overgrown trail back to the motel. "We'll walk for now, but keep on your toes. Walkers come from nowhere."

I took a deep breath and began walking after her, matching my pace to hers. We strolled through the patchy woods at a pretty calm pace for about ten minutes, but I knew we still had at least fifteen minutes and half a mile ahead of us to the roadside motel we called home currently.

"So…" Michonne began a little ominously, but her tone was levelled and it was obvious she was trying to sound uninterested. "What's going on between you and Carl?"

She wasn't looking at me, and I'm glad she wasn't, or else she would've caught my blush. I shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess he's okay. I mean, we have our disagreements sometimes, but… he's the first one of my age or mindset I've met in a while."

I tried to sound like I didn't care for him.

"No, that's not what I mean." Although my voice was stable and expression tranquil, Michonne somehow saw through my lie. "How do you _really_ feel about that boy?"

"I told you; I think he's alright!" I might have raised my voice a little too much for the faux air of not caring, but Michonne neither flinched nor brought it up. She only gazed at me with that wise, knowing expression of hers.

"I know there's something going on between you two. I heard you singing to him last night, and the way you spoke to him this morning? You care for him, I know you do." I despised how unruffled she was by everything, hardly showing her emotions.

"How would you know?" I tried to keep back the coldness in my tone, but it somehow found its way in anyway.

Michonne cast me a disbelieving, slightly skeptical glance.

"You're the worst liar I've ever heard." Allowing me protest for a moment, she spoke over me nonetheless. "I won't tell him I asked you this, don't worry. Just try to keep your relationship subtle if you don't want his father to know."

I folded my arms in annoyance, but I knew she was right. I vowed that I would keep interactions with him on the down-low from now on, and I would only steal away moments with him when we were alone. It was too risky otherwise, and I didn't want either of us on the group's bad side, even if Michonne and Tara were in our metaphorical favour.

"Fine." Was all I could hiss back as we approached the motel from the back, circling around to the front. I wouldn't let my irritation show near them, because I knew it would only arise more questions than answers, mostly because I wouldn't be able to answer any of them without lying. So, I put on a relaxed expression as we neared the wooden fence out front.

Michonne hopped over it first and waved me towards the lobby, where everyone met during the day when they weren't on runs to plan. I trailed after her casually as we walked around the group as they talked, heading towards an table by the back of the room. We emptied our packs of all useful stuff in a pile and went to join the group. I noticed that Michonne grabbed the map she found on the convenience store counter and took it over to Rick, distracting him for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, I sat down further away from the group and pulled my knife out of the sheath, wiping it on my jeans. The blood dried on it didn't come off, however, so I poured some of a water bottle on the hem of my sweatshirt sleeve and attempted to rub the blade clean of the blood. I kept my vision focused on the knife, even when Carl broke apart from the group and went over to sit down next to me.

"Are you okay?" He kept his voice quiet. I nodded, but just barely cast him a glance.

"We can't be seen talking anymore." I said softly, pressing down on the knife a little too hard and slicing open my thumb a little bit. I made no sound but opened my mouth in a small gasp, wiping the blood on the damp part of my sleeve.

"Why not?" Carl's tone sounded betrayed and it almost broke my heart to hear it that way, but I understood.

"Michonne heard us last night, on the roof. She told me today that we're… not as discreet as it we think." I kept my eyes on my backpack as I rummaged through, looking for a band-aid.

"So? Michonne's trustworthy, right? She won't tell my dad." His argument was undeniably weak, but I felt too bad to tell him so.

"Maybe so, but someone else might hear us. Someone less loyal to you, like-like Daryl, or Glenn, or… whatever that priest's name is." I fastened the band-aid on my thumb and sucked away the blood seeping around the edges to try and keep it sanitary.

"His name's Gabriel, I think, and I still don't get it. Why does that matter?"

"Because, Carl, I could very well get kicked out of this group if your dad finds out." I finally looked up at him, staring him right in the eyes.

Just then, I noticed Maggie was staring at us with a puzzled face. I guess Carl caught glimpse of this too, because his expression changed instantly to a condescending scowl.

"Well, maybe if you weren't so clumsy, you wouldn't have cut your thumb open." He said, trying his hardest to make it look like he was irritated with me.

"Listen, Carl-" I began in an annoyed tone.

"Carl!" Rick's voice reprimanded his son. "Come over here."

Carl pushed himself up off the floor and started towards his dad, still keeping the irate aura about him. He glanced back to pretend to cast me a glare and hiss a demeaning response, but he instead mumbled. "Meet me in the woods, tonight. After everyone's asleep."

I gave him a glare back just to show that I had understood.


	5. Fan Service

Author's Note

WARNING: There is a _lot_ of smut in this chapter, and if you're squeamish or easily triggered by any sort of hardcore porn scenes, you'd be better off skipping this chapter. You will not miss much.

I stared at the stacked bodies of biters a few feet away as I sat at the trunk of a tree in the darkness. Even on the cloudless, moonlit night, it was dark as hell and I hated being out here alone. Since I showed up first, it was my job to somewhat 'secure' the area and make sure no biters around would be roaming where Carl and I couldn't see them.

My head shot to the side as I heard footsteps, crunching the leaves and twigs. I pushed myself to more of a crouching position, my hand on my knife.

"It's just me." Carl's voice warned as he stepped into the small clearing, holding his hands out in a safe gesture. I plopped back down and let my hand fall to my side. I don't know what it was about him, but every time I was around Carl, I just felt somewhat safer.

"Hi." I spoke the word through a sigh, leaning my head back on the rough bark of the oak tree. Carl settled down beside me. I had left my hat in the motel room with Tara, but Carl didn't leave his. There was a somewhat awkward silence between us that seemed to go on forever.

"What did Michonne say?" Carl finally asked, breaking the silence.

I bit my lip uncomfortably, sighing before answering. "Well, she asked how I felt about you. I tried to pull off the innocent, 'oh, he's okay I guess' masquerade at first but… since she heard us, you know…she kind of called bullshit on my entire answer not matter how much I tried to persuade her."

I leaned against Carl after I finished speaking. He slung his arm around me lazily and pulled me closer. "I guess that's alright… She's a good person, and I don't think she'll tell my dad."

"You don't think, but…" I trailed off, knowing that I'd just offend him if I accuse Michonne of being disloyal in front of him.

"I know, I know." He sighed in unison with me. Then, changing the subject, Carl glanced around and stated, "It's quiet out here. For all the walkers around this place, I mean."

"Agreed." Although he was right, I wasn't suspicious. Those three I took out, added onto the two by the roadside, were just about all that I could find within about a twenty-foot radius or so.

"Should we just go back and sleep?" I asked, glancing past Carl through the trees to where the motel was.

He spoke over me just as I finished my sentence. "No. Stay here with me."

When I gave him an uncertain look, he added with a pleading expression, "Please?"

He knew I couldn't resist his cuteness when he did that, and I found myself settling against him again. I wasn't tired, but I felt drunk with confusion that night. It seemed no matter what answers I found, there was always another question staring me in the face, demanding that I figure out what it means. Beside me, Carl tossed his hat onto a tree root a few feet away.

I felt Carl slip his arm off my shoulder and gently took hold of my jawline, turning my face towards him. I saw him smile slightly at me before pressing his lips against mine slowly, closing his eyes. I felt comforted, with his warm hand against my cheek where the cold night air bit before. Without breaking the kiss, I shifted so I could crawl onto his lap, straddling him and tilting my head a little bit.

I probably knew before he did what Carl had in mind as he slid his other hand under my sweatshirt, making me gasp softly when his cold fingertips touched my skin. I made a soft sound as he grabbed my hip, taking his other hand off of my face to do the same on the other side. I practically purred as he gently rubbed my hips, biting my lip playfully. I pulled away to giggle, but he soon pulled me back into another kiss.

I moaned against his lips as he began to grind against me, his hands sliding down to my ass. I felt him smirk as he squeezed my ass roughly, making me squeak and blush. I broke away from the kiss only to press my lips against his neck, nipping softly along his jawline. As gentle as I was being, Carl didn't quite seem to like doing the same, and practically pushed me down against him as he roughly grinded his bulge against my crotch. My face turned beet red.

His eyes opened and saw my blush, to where he gave me another smug grin. I saw this and felt even more embarrassed, trying to hide it by ducking down and beginning to leave kisses all over his throat. A soft groan came from Carl as he rubbed against me, making me bite my lip and dig my nails into the grass.

Deciding that now, right now, was going to be the ultimate test of how far I would go for this boy, I found myself reaching down between us and slipping my hand into his jeans, while staring him right in the eyes. This time, it was his turn to blush. Since no conscious thought of _why I shouldn't be doing this_ came to mind at that moment, I hardly noticed when I had reached into his boxers and grabbed his hard cock. Carl's face turned bright red.

At that moment, as I slowly rubbed my thumb against his tip, I realized that the weird tingling feeling that I had felt every time he kissed me was most definitely being horny. Hey, it's been over a year since I've felt even the slightest bit of arousal, so you can shut up.

"Stand up, sweetheart." Even I was nearly surprised at how seductive my voice came out, and I punctuated my words with a sexy lip-bite. Carl nodded, and once I slipped my hand out of his jeans, obeyed me. After he took off his belt and jeans, and slid his boxers down, he seemed to realize that he was in control. I got on my knees in front of him, making slightly embarrassed eye contact with him.

"Go on." He leaned against the tree as I parted my lips slightly, looking up into his eyes. I didn't like being on my knees in the middle of the forest, but right now, I didn't really mind.

"Open your mouth." He ordered softly, twining my ponytail around his hand. I obeyed, opening my mouth wide and sticking my tongue out a little bit. Carl grinned and shoved my head forward, making me squeak in surprise and try to back away out of instinct as his cock entered my throat.

He raised his eyebrow as he held me there. I looked up at him pleadingly. "What's wrong?" His voice was a teasing mask of his normal tone. "Too much?"

I made a small noise, the only way to tell him that I was fine. Carl's smug grin almost annoyed me, but I didn't even mind when he began to thrust into my mouth while holding me by my ponytail. I even pursed my lips for him and slid my tongue along the underside of his cock.

Carl leaned his head back as he moved in and out of my mouth, doing mostly of the work. The most I could really do is move my tongue and lips around him, earning a few soft moans from him. It felt so weird to be giving a boy a blowjob in the woods, but I can't say it wasn't an adventure.

"Fuck..." This was the first time I ever really heard him swear, and it came out as more of a groan. I couldn't help but feel a surge of control over him at that moment, even if he was the one doing most of the work.

We had begun to work out an unspoken system not long after; I learned that he especially enjoyed the feel of my tongue and it was fun just to tease him with it once he had let me take control and let go of my hair.

Sliding my tongue around the head of his cock made his hands tighten into fists, and you can bet I made mental note of that move. Nipping and sucking along the sides also got quiet the reaction from him; whether it was a groan or cursing, it always made me feel like I had a little bit of power over him, and I enjoyed it fully.

"I'm gonna cum..." Carl's voice wasn't more than a weak mumble. As soon as he said this, I took a risk and deepthroated as much of his cock as I could. A louder moan came from him as he pushed my head towards him, forcing me to swallow as he came down my throat. Not that I minded, of course...

Carl almost looked embarrassed when he pulled out of my mouth, his cheeks red. I'm sure mine were the same, but at that time, I wasn't paying attention to it. I was, instead, licking my lips and looking up at Carl.

He ran his fingers through his hair with a half-happy, half-relieved sigh, a faint smile on his lips. "Holy shit..."

"Do you believe in heaven?" I asked softly, staring at the pavement. Tara glanced at me, surprised, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her cast almost a guilty look at the sky.

"Used to." She didn't elaborate; she didn't have to. It's hard to believe there's any sort of god watching over us when all this shit is going down and nobody in the supposed heaven even considered stepping up to help.

"Me too. When I was real little." I twirled my finger around my sweatshirt string and tugged on it absently.

Tara didn't respond. Her gaze was fixed on the ugly, concrete-gray cloudy sky, her face showing no emotion.

"What's going on?" Maggie hoisted herself onto the fence beside Tara. Then, following her gaze, she remarked, "Looks like rain."

I repeated my question to her. Unlike Tara, Maggie didn't seem to need any time to tell me that she did, still, believe in God and the heavens. Unsure what to do with this information, I only nodded understanding and pushed myself to a standing position. "Hey, I'm going to go off on my own for a little while, okay?"

Maggie gave me a half-skeptical look, then glanced toward the lobby. "You might want to ask Rick before you leave."

"Can't I just ask Michonne?" I shrugged my mostly-empty backpack onto my shoulders.

"Michonne's on a run with Glenn and Carl. Your best bet is just to ask Rick. Unless you want to deal with Daryl, and I don't think he's taken much of a liking to you. No offense."

With a half-sigh, half-groan, I thanked Maggie and set off. One last glance at Tara proved that she was still staring blankly at the grey afternoon sky. Rolling my eyes, I headed for the lobby. I glanced back to see that Maggie had engaged Tara in conversation, and with them focused on each other, I slipped away just between the lobby and motel rooms. Nobody else had seen me, either.

I slipped through the narrow alleyway and came out on an ugly concrete garden that might have held live flowers as an attraction before. Now, all that was left was some brittle-looking empress trees and prickly weeds in the flowerbeds. Meanwhile, I decided to leave the plants alone. I was never much of a gardener anyway.

Following the same path I went with Michonne, I silently prayed to Mother Nature that she'd cleared the biters from the police station. Something tells me that, after nearly a week, the alarm would have stopped and the biters spread out. One on one, or even four on one, I can handle walkers, but once it gets double digits... Well, I'd be better off running and/or hiding.

After nearly twenty minutes of nothing but trees, scrubby shrubbery, and dirt, I finally came upon the town Michonne and I had ransacked. As I had predicted, the police office wasn't as overrun as it was, but there was an abundance of biters hoarding around it. Others were ambling aimlessly about the town. Taking a deep breath, I treasured the momentary feeling of just being alone. After being randomly admitted into a large group, it almost felt off to be on my own. But now, as I fell back into the feeling, it was nice.

The sun hadn't broken through the clouds, but the sky had lightened enough to where it seemed that rain wouldn't visit just yet. Still, I figured this run better be hasty, considering I had to be back before anyone noticed I was gone. Anyone besides Tara or Maggie, anyway.

I kept to the outskirts of the forest as I snaked my way towards a drug store; those ones that are trying to hard to be knock-off grocery marts, but end up mostly selling off-brand makeup and Viagra. But, since there was no _actual_ pharmacy in sight, I figured that this would be best to cure any new illnesses. I actually noticed this morning that both Glenn and Carol had begun coughing.

As I neared the so-called "Quick-Aid", I began to notice just how sad the store looked when it was all dark. The neon signs in the windows were out, papers of lost children and party notices and music lessons and play auditions fluttered in the little alcove before the door, still tacked to the doorway after all that's happened. The path to the shop was relatively clear, but I was a little hesitant now to go inside. From the look of the windows, it was dark and getting darker inside, and all I had was a flashlight.

 _Buck up_ , I told myself. _Don't be a wimp_. _We don't have time for this._

After telling the usually-obnoxious voice in my head that it was right, I set off silently for the biter ambling in the doorway. It almost looked as if the rotting middle-aged man was reading the "Lost" posters, which struck me as a little bit funny. I don't know why.

It felt wrong to name this one, so I simply snuck up behind him and buried my knife in his skull before he realized I was there. I wiped the blade on my jeans and checked the glass door in front of me, kicking the lifeless corpse to the side. It hardly budged, but that was the least of my concerns. The door was locked tight, with a deadbolt and chain across the two front bars. Cursing silently, I glanced around for another way in.

Nothing arose as a separate solution. So, with an inward groan, I began to trudge my way through the parking lot and towards the back door. My sister used to work at a place like this; they always had back doors that only the employees could unlock. I froze.

Of course. I'm such an idiot. If only the employees could unlock it, how the _fuck_ was I expecting to get in?

Another groan nearly made its way out into the open when a lightbulb appeared. The biter in the doorway; he was wearing the ugly-ass green uniform of the people who worked here, and he had a name tag! Hopefully the cadaver would still harbour some of the keys used to open this place up. If not, that's sad that his manager didn't trust him enough.

I sprinted back to the front of the store as silently as I could with combat boots on concrete. Thankfully, my heels hardly touched the ground when I ran (it's a weird habit from when I was little. Don't ask), and the clicking sound didn't manifest with each step. Which was good, considering the biters less than fifty feet away wouldn't have their backs turned for long. I instantly dropped to the ground and dragged the rotting corpse over to a pillar, hiding behind it as I searched the dead man's pockets.

It didn't take me but thirty seconds to find the lanyard attached to his drooping belt, at least twelve keys attached to it. Unfortunately, "Samuel" (as his name-tag read) didn't label his goddamned keys, which made my part much more difficult than it had to be. Word to the wise, label your fuckin' keys.

When I glanced back up, I saw that only one biter had taken notice of me. However, she was too far away to even get near me before I had reached the back of the store again. I disregarded her, figuring that she wouldn't be a threat for quite a while. But, while staring at the lock on the door, I realized that I would have to try each of these stupid keys separately, and they all looked the same. Silver, a little bit of blood on them, with jagged teeth. I will forever curse Samuel for not owning a labelmaker or Sharpie marker.

After inspecting each key, I eliminated three of them, considering that they were too rusted beyond use. Hopefully, none of those were the actual fitting key.

Nine keys and nine failed tries later, the door was still as locked up as a Catholic nun's vagina. Okay, don't look at me like that. I'm bad with similes. My point is, none of those keys were the right ones and it's all Samuel's fault. But, instead of throwing myself against the door like _some people_ (Carl) would do, I searched for the nearest object that I could use to jimmy the door open. I sure as hell wasn't going to use my knife, and the dirty shovel near the dumpster would work just fine, even if it did have a bent handle.

A few blows of the shovel's edge and loud _crack_ sounds later, the door finally creaked open. Which, as it turns out, WAS AN AWFUL IDEA.

Biters began swarming out of the door, hardly giving me enough time to realize what was happening before nearly a score of them were in the weak sunlight. This was more biters than I'd ever seen in one area, and after bringing only one or two down with the shovel (with twelve more to replace them), I did my second tactic: run like hell.

Of course, the amount of growls and moans coming from the mob behind me and me sprinting faster than a biter could ever hope to go, it definitely attracted all the nearby bystanders. Thanks, neighborhood biters for making this 100% worse than it had to be.

Thankfully, I managed to haul ass out of that stupid town, and figured that I would never be going back there. After the growls and moans mostly died out, it took me almost five minutes to calm my heart, which was going two hundred beats per minute, both from the scare and the fact I was running at top speed for nearly ten minutes straight.

I let myself calm down for a little while after starting back towards the motel. I didn't think about how I was coming back empty-handed, or how I would explain even being out on my own for so long, but I guess I could say I took a walk. That wouldn't explain the flushed face, though.

I decided I would cross that bridge when I came to it. And as I approached the motel, I felt as if the impending doom of that bridge was about to appear in front of me any second. I rounded the corner in the alleyway to see that Michonne and her group had come back some time ago, and were now speaking in hushed but aggravated tones with Rick, Daryl, and Maggie.

Maggie realized my arrival first, and as I tried to slip away unnoticed, she, of course, had to bring attention to me. Striding over, she exclaimed, "There you are! Where in the hell were you?"

Stopping awkwardly, I turned around slowly and forced a casual tone. "Just… out. Taking a walk. You know."

Maggie saw right through my bullshit, I knew that from the look on her face. However, Rick was the one to take action, practically pushing past Maggie. "Why didn't you tell anyone where you were going?"

It was obvious he was trying to intimidate me, but I stared up at him, unfazed. "You said it yourself last week. I'm not an asset to this group, why were you worried I was gone?"

"He wasn't worried about you." Daryl's gruff voice stated the obvious, and I held back a meaningful eyeroll. Instead, I nodded.

"Yes, but why's there a reason to be worried at all? I wasn't gone long."

"You were gone nearly an hour." Maggie cut in. Rick cast her a suspicious glance.

"You knew she was leaving? Why weren't one of us told?" He gestured to the group behind him. I was a little taken aback that even Michonne looked slightly annoyed.

I was taking on the stance of a troublemaker schoolkid who was being talked down to by the teacher; along with the un-caring, bored tone. "She knew. She told me to tell you, but I figured you'd tell me to stay, soooo…"

I gave them a meaningless shrug. Rick stared at me with angry disbelief. I didn't blame him, however, considering I was acting like an insolent child.

"This ain't how we do things 'round here." Daryl spoke up first, calm and collected as me. I met his glare equally.

"Then please explain how a fourteen-year-old girl taking a walk in the forest harms _any_ of you." I was determined to keep my annoyance under control, and I felt like I had just managed to let a little bit peek through. A stare at the small group behind Rick proved that they were all upset with my actions. I noticed Carl in the background, giving me a meaningful glance. I, however, glared back with all the fierceness which meant I did _not_ need his help here.

"We don't know what you were doing in those woods. You could've been planning anything." Rick's voice was quiet but cross, still trying to intimidate me. I only shrugged it off.

"Whatever. Kick me out of the group if you want." I started up the stairs, ignoring Maggie trying to grab for my sleeve. "Even kill me if you are compelled to do so. It doesn't make any difference anyway, since I'm going to be seen as your enemy no matter what."

I slammed the motel room door shut behind me with the viciousness of an angry toddler. I listened for footsteps or raised voices for a few moments, but nobody came after me or was yelling for me. _Good_ , I thought with a victorious grin as I plopped down on my bed and slung my backpack onto the floor.

They probably thought that sass was a one-time deal.

How wrong those fuckers were.

"Come with me." Carl tugged on my sweatshirt sleeve and spoke in a low voice, trying to pull me away from the group where they wouldn't hear us talking. Hoping that we'd slip away unnoticed, I let him guide me out of the back-door into the small, pavement courtyard with cracked stone benches and brown weeds growing (or lack thereof) in the splits in the ground. He let go of my hand as he sat down on the bench farthest from the door or any windows, behind a tree so that we were fully out of sight if you didn't know where to look.

I gave him a smile as I plopped down on his lap, using the same straddle pose as I did night before last. We decided to space out our meetings so that it was less suspicious, and so far, we'd manage to slip the notice of nearly everyone in the group. Besides Tara and Michonne, anyway.

Without even needing a prompt, I leaned forward and pecked Carl's lips. Then, before he could pull me into a kiss, I tucked my head into the crook of his neck.

"What're you… doing?" He seemed a little puzzled at my action, but stroked my hair nonetheless. I decided to leave both my hat in the motel room and my hair down today, much to Carl's amazement, who had never seen me without pigtails or a ponytail.

"Just enjoying your company." I practically purred, nuzzling his neck. He pushed me away slightly, but before I could ask what he was doing, he told me to stand up and follow him. Being the awkward pack-dog I was, I did.

"Come on." He grabbed my hand and hurried me up the stairs to the room his and his dad shared. Carl glanced around before opening the door, holding it open for me to go inside. I smiled at him before ducking in, a little spark of anxiety worrying that we'd be caught. Naturally, I ignored it.

Almost as soon as we were in the room, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a kiss. I didn't mind the slightest, closing my eyes and cocking my head in the normal ritual. But once an idea arose in my head, I did the ultimately dumb thing to do and pulled away, looking up in his eyes with a smug smile.

"What would you say if I said I was sleeping with someone else?"

Carl looked a little bit surprised, but only chuckled, sounding a little uncomfortable. "Very funny."

He went for a kiss again, but I pushed him away.

"Maybe I _am_ fucking someone else, though…" I mumbled teasingly, making direct eye contact with him. Carl's face turned red with jealousy.

"What? Who?" He sounded like he was crossed between being turned on at the idea of me being fucked by another guy, and being upset that might be 'cheating' on him. Although I didn't have romantic or sexual attraction towards anyone else, I figured it was better that he didn't know _just_ yet. Plus, I enjoyed teasing him this way.

Who _would_ I be fucking, anyway? All the guys here were too old for me, and so were the girls, if not in a relationship already. Still, Carl's jealous tone definitely made me want to feign a sexual encounter with someone else, just for a _little_ while longer. An idea popped into my head as my hand slid in his.

"Maaaaybeee… it's your dad…" I stepped forward until I wasn't but a few inches away from him, staring up at him and sticking my tongue out a bit playfully as his expression went from confused, to shocked, to angry, to betrayed, to skeptical.

"No way… you're lying." He half-growled as he glared down at me. I smirked and bit my lip.

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's just say that Rick still has handcuffs for a reason~" I stood up taller and pecked his lips. Then, whipping around after slipping my hand out of his, I waved to him.

"Ta-ta, sweetie! I've got to go do things."

Just before I got to the door, however, Carl caught up to me and grabbed my wrists, twirling me around and pinning me to the wall roughly, just as he did before he first kissed me a week or so ago. Except this time, he was much more aggravated, and the look in his eyes was almost possessive when he stared into mine.

He hardly gave me a moment to recover from being shoved against a wall (quite rudely) before he pressed his lips to my neck, beginning to bite and suck hard, no doubt drawing blood from a few spots. I tried to keep my voice down as I cried out. "Car-l! They're going to see them if you keep doing it there!" I whined, trying to pull my wrists away from the wall. But Carl still stronger than I was and kept me pinned there, biting down harder and harder each time.

I moaned out his name again, which only made him rougher. "C-Come on! Carl, ple-ase let gooo! What are you doing?"

"Making you mine." He growled into my ear, making me blush, despite the circumstances. Carl let one of my wrists free, shoving that hand into my pants and pressing roughly along my slit until I gasped. He smirked, and I knew that he had been searching for my clit when he started to rub his fingertip against the small bump hard, making me moan and gasp in pleasure.

"Carl, pl-e-a-seeeee stopppp~" I moaned, trying to push him away with my free hand.

Carl finally pulled away from my throat, which hurt as if it was stung by a billion bees, and let me go. I dropped to the floor, panting, as Carl stepped back.

"Stay there." His tone was no gentler than before, and I can't say that I had a problem with it being that way. I nodded feebly, my fingers going to my neck to feel if he had drawn blood. He had.

"Yes, sir…" Carl's gaze shot over to look at me once I said that, but a slight smile of satisfaction came to his lips once he realized what came out of my mouth. I crouched and stayed where I was, trying to soak up most of the blood in the sleeve of my black sweatshirt, hoping it wouldn't be noticeable. I didn't hardly pay attention to Carl sifting through his backpack at the other end of the room, I was too immersed in nursing my bleeding bitemarks.

"Come here…" Carl said as he pulled my arms straight out in front of me, making me squeak in surprise. He bound them together in jerky motions, using the same sort of knot as he did on day one. Unfortunately, I still didn't know how to undo them by myself, so I really had no choice but to submit to him.

Much to my surprise, Carl picked me up easily and hauled me over to his side of the motel room, plopping me on the bed. I stared at him with wide eyes, and he had to stop and stare back.

"What? You slept with my dad, and now I have to claim you as mine." I couldn't help the rush of arousal these words brought, making my cheeks bloom a bright pink and a chill run up my spine. I wasn't prepared, however, for Carl to quickly unbutton and unzip my jeans, sliding them off along with my panties. I blushed even darker at this, trying to cross my legs to preserve my dignity. Carl scowled and practically pried my legs apart. When I tried to close them again, he pulled out his knife and stared at me threateningly.

"Be a good girl." Those were his only words, and all he had to say to make me let him take control. Carl pushed my legs apart again and lowered his head, giving me one slow, long lick up my slit before pulling away. Before I knew what I was doing, I whimpered softly for more.

"Maybe." He answered my whimper. "But first, you'll have to be good and stay quiet while I make you mine, alright?"

I nodded, hoping he would put away his knife. Instead, Carl straddled my legs to keep me still and pressed the sharp tip of the blade against my hip. My breath hitched. Should I tell him to stop..? No, I decided finally. He might be rougher if I wouldn't let him do what he has planned.

"Shhh..." He hushed me as he began to slowly slice into my skin, carving something into my hip. My body shook and I bit my lip as he went torturously slow, taking his sweet time. Finally, he pulled the knife away from my hip and licked the blood off of it.

As he went to get a bandage from his bag, I glanced down at my hip. He had carved his initials into my skin, blood welling up at the edges of it.

I pretended not to notice as Carl bandaged the cuts, taping the cotton down so I couldn't mess with it. I cast him a slight glare while he had his back turned to put the things away, but once he turned back to me, he saw the expression on my face and rolled his eyes.

"Just because I have to make you mine, doesn't mean I have to be nice about it." Carl pointed out, positioning himself between my legs. I could already tell that he was hard, even before he took off his jeans. He pressed his tip against my wet opening, grabbing my hips.

"You're already horny?" Carl asked in mock-disbelief. "Good, cause I'm not patient enough for foreplay."

Without any more stalling, Carl shoved into me. Hard. I arched my back and cried out, squeezing my eyes shut. Carl kept going, giving short thrusts until he was fully in me. Tears were at the edges of my eyes; I'd never fucked someone before, but I can't say I never imagined something like this happening to me.

"Be careful, plea-se..." I whimpered. Carl only gave me a soft squeeze on the hips and pretended to think about it.

"Uh...no." He began to slowly thrust in and out of me, making me gasp softly in pain each time. Carl, ignoring these sounds, began to get faster. From the amount of arousal this boy caused, it was starting to get smoother and less painful than before. I couldn't help but notice that once Carl's thrusts were lubricated by my wet, it actually felt... Well, good. I even found myself letting out soft noises, like moans and whines of pleasure.

"Like this?" Carl asked condescendingly, beginning to go faster. I wrapped my legs around him, urging him to go deeper. "Then you'll be a slut for what's next."

As Carl fucked me harder and harder, I felt him drag his nails down my sides.

I moaned out his name and moved my hips in time with his thrusts, or at least, tried to. As he went harder, I felt the sense of pleasure fade, and pain became the main event as he rammed into my cervix hard.

"A-ah-Carl, sl-ow down!" I whimpered, digging my nails into my palms.

"Please, Sheriff!" I moaned, closing my eyes and tilting my head back. Carl slowed momentarily.

"What did you call me?" His voice was threateningly soft. I didn't know if I was supposed to repeat myself or sign it off as nothing.

"It was… j-just… nothing…" I squeaked out, quivering slightly under his gaze. Although Carl was never that intimidating to me before, he almost frightened me now. But, in a somewhat good way.

He ignored me, grunting with effort every now and then as he rammed into me. For my part, I let out pitiful wails and moans, clasping my fingers together and digging my nails into each hand hard. When I felt like the brutal fucking was going to go on forever, I heard Carl groan a warning that he was going to cum softly.

I squeaked and shook my head wildly, trying to move away. "No! Not inside me, please!"

Apparently, my protest fell on deaf ears. Carl leaned over me slightly and grasped my thighs as he stopped deep inside me. I whimpered and whined as he came inside me, holding my bottom half still while still holding onto my thighs as tightly as he could. A soft, husky moan arose from him as he finished, pulling out seconds later.

"There." He seemed a bit satisfied with himself as he got dressed. Then, Carl leaned over the bed and untied my wrists, giving me a soft kiss on the cheek. I was still half-naked when I heard the door open slightly.

Carl instantly shoved me off the side of the bed onto the floor. I landed with a soft _thump_ , but the person at the door didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, dad. What…what's up?" Carl's voice was strained as he tried to be nonchalant. I grabbed my panties and jeans and pulled them on as silently as I could, keeping my head ducked below bed level.

"I just needed my bag. Michonne and I are talking about plans to get going in the morning." He started into the room, but it sounded as if Carl herded him back towards the doorway.

"No, I'll get it for you." I saw him cast me a slightly worried glance as he dashed across the room, throwing Rick's bag to him. Rick sounded a little puzzled, a little concerned as he responded.

"I…uh, thanks, Carl. You… have fun. I guess." The door closed once more and Carl waved at me that it was safe to get up. I plopped onto the bed in a huff, rubbing my arm.

"Rude." I crossed my arms and pretended to be annoyed with him pushing me off the bed.

"Hey, I'm sorry, but we can't risk Dad finding out, right?" Carl acted as if what he did never happened as he crawled onto the bed next to me and pulled me into a hug. He gently kissed my cheek again, pulling me back with him to lay on the bed.

"You're cute." He whispered softly, after staring at me for about a minute. I gave him an awkward head shake, running my fingers through my hair.

"Said the one who tied me up less than ten minutes ago, dude." I stuck my tongue out and leaned my head against him, also acting as if nothing happened. I felt a little satisfied with it, now that I think about it. Nobody could say I didn't get what I wanted.


	6. A Little Run-Away

The sun was just barely cresting over the muddy hill as I sat alone, far from where our cars were parked, and stared down at my knife. I slowly turned the handle around and around, weak sunlight glinting on the silver blade and into my eyes. I don't know why, but I had some odd attachment to the kitchen knife; not just because of the story behind my obtaining it, but perhaps just because it was a handy weapon.

I didn't expect anyone to be up at this hour yet. Although I didn't know how to read the sun in time, I could assume well that it couldn't have been later than six or seven in the morning. The small camp behind me was silent and untouched by the new day. I pushed myself up off the mossy rock I sat on, suddenly feeling a jolt of energy. I suppressed it and merely slipped on my sweatshirt to protect myself from the early morning misty chill.

The biters we killed last night were heaped, maybe five or more, in a bundle a few dozen yards away from the camp. I wasn't surprised that the group didn't enjoy sleeping with dead biters nearby; I couldn't blame them. My stomach growled at a bird flapped overhead, but I silenced it with an elbow jab. I wouldn't let myself be hungry.

My quiet morning was broken by the soft sound of footsteps up the grassy hill. A single glance behind me proved that Daryl had woken up even before me, as he was heading out of the thin woods with a young rabbit and two squirrels pinned to his belt. He slung his crossbow across his shoulder and gave me a look.

"What? You think you're the only one who gets up early 'round here?" Although I didn't like his gruff tone of voice, something urged me to be friendly with him for once. Maybe I was sick of being rude to these people, but it was mostly because I didn't want him to shoot me or something along those lines.

"No," I lied, looking towards the camp. I figured everyone would wake soon, but for now, no movement commenced around the cars. "Were you hunting?"

"No, I was meeting with the president." Daryl was being sarcastic, I could tell, but his voice stayed the same slightly-agitated tone as before.

"Sorry for asking, jeez." I rolled my eyes and glanced away, taking a step back and crossing my arms.

He didn't respond, heading towards their group's makeshift camp. I sighed. Well, you can't force somebody to like you, and it seems Daryl didn't like anyone. Besides Carol, of course. That match was plain as day.

I watched from a the bottom of the hill as the camp began to come alive with activity once Daryl arrived. I kept my distance, however, knowing that they still didn't quite welcome me as a real member of their group. Whatever. At least Michonne and Tara tolerated me.

I plopped back down on the rock and messed with my knife more, ignoring the pains in my stomach. If I found something, I'd eat later.

"Danny?" I recognized the southern accent as Maggie's voice, and glanced up. She rarely talked to me, but when she did, she sounded friendly. "Why don't you come and eat with the rest of us?"

I almost flinched when she mentioned "the rest of us", as if she assumed I was part of their group. However, Rick made it quite clear recently that I was only a temporary addition until they found a safe place to drop me where I'd have a chance. Not that it bothered me.

"I'm fine, Maggie." I kept my elbow jabbed into my stomach in hopes it wouldn't growl. Thankfully, my stomach acid happened to be on my side today and kept its rumbling to itself.

"You sure?" She gave me a skeptical look. I nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, despite the fact I was digging my nails into my arm. _Come on, Maggie, just leave me be…_

"Alright then." Maggie sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes, turning back to the cars. She paused for a moment, and looked back with an almost stern expression on her face.

"I don't want to hear about you denying anything else to eat today, alright? Beth used to do that nonsense all the time, and…" She trailed off and I gave her a confused look.

"Uh… Who's Beth?" I decided it would be best if I didn't point out that it technically was my real name as well.

"Nobody, nobody. Just someone we lost, you know." Maggie forced a sideways smile and I nodded sympathetically, figuring to keep my mouth shut for now and leave her at that.

Without another word, just a slight nod, she headed back to her group. I, however, turned back towards the forest, twirling the knife against the rock. It made a horrendous scraping sound, but it was quiet enough to where only I could hear it. Glancing at my messenger bag, an idea sprang to mind and, before I could quench the flame, it had grown into a full bonfire of a plan. One glance behind me proved that the group mostly had their backs turned to me, and the ones who hadn't were too engrossed in activity or conversation that they wouldn't notice me.

I shoved the knife into its sheathe against my hip. I glanced back one more as I shouldered my bag, seeing that the coast was clear. As fast, and as quietly, as I could, I took off into the woods.

When no sudden shouts or footsteps after me occurred, I felt safe enough with this plan. My bag bounced against my hip and thigh uncomfortably, and my rifle was no better, but I kept running until the sounds from the camp faded and a little bit more. I only stopped to catch my breath after I was sure that it would take more than that time to reach me from the camp.

As I breathed in the crisp morning air, I surveyed the new territory. The trees were wet with dew and an ugly brown-green, but the sun just barely shining on it all made it oddly serene. A slight smile broke across my lips, but it was quickly shrouded with a frown as I heard unmistakable groaning coming from not far away.

I rolled my eyes and unsheathed my knife, turning around slowly as to be sure where the biter was. My gaze fell upon one single cadaver, stumbling along with a bloody stump where its left leg should've gone. I couldn't help my old naming system booting up, pinning the clumsy dead man as "Pirate Stumpy". I groaned at almost the same tone as the biter, knowing that once I gave it a name, it would never fade.

One simple kick to Pirate Stumpy's other leg made him tumble onto the slick grass, growling with effort as he reached out for my leg. I backed up enough to be safe and slowly sunk the blade of my knife into the mushy corpse's skull. Pirate Stumpy went limp on the ground. I wiped the blade on my jeans and stuck it back in the sheathe, turning back around to start on.

I forced myself not to think of what I literally just ran away from as I continued, at a slower pace this time, through the trees and shrubbery. Not much was around in these woods, but I did see many hanging corpses, all of them put down after their turn. Although this did worry me a bit to whomever was in these woods before me, I didn't let it bother me. But, once I saw a cabin-like shack in the distance, all worry faded to the background.

Part of the house looked like it was at the edge of burning away, considering the untreated wood on the outside was still black and charred. When I touched it, the pieces crumbled away and left black charcoal marks on my fingers. I wiped my hand on my jeans and checked around the rest of the house.

Nothing was too unusual. A window smashed, but the pieces of glass were still partially intact, which meant nobody had broken it for the sake of getting in or out. Front door unlocked, porch covered in moss and grime, overgrown ivy trails along the sides of the cabin; the normal these days.

I pushed the front door open. It let out a pained creaking sound as it revealed the rest of the house. All that was to the tiny shack, it seemed, was a dusty living room, foul-smelling kitchen, and a hallway with a door on either side. Bedroom, I figured, and bathroom.

It seemed a middle-aged redneck had lived here, considering the placemats still strewn across the table with "God Bless this House My Shotgun Protects It" scrawled on them in ugly print. There was not enough eye-rolling left on this entire Earth for what was in this trashy house.

However, it seems the redneck who lived here did have some things prioritized. A gun cabinet took up one of the corners, just beside the broken window. The glass on the case was cracked, but not broken, and the lock was still shut around the opening. I let out a fierce whistle, hoping to call any biters stuck in the home. When nothing arose, not even sounds, I considered it safe and dismantled a lamp, taking the actual metal part and smashing it against the glass.

Unsurprisingly, it shattered when the force of the lamp base hit against it. I ducked away from the small shards of glass and set down the lamp beside me. Although the gun cabinet didn't hold much, it had enough, and that was really all that mattered here.

I crouched in the snow of crystallized glass and peered at the inside of the cabinet. A shotgun wouldn't be much use to me, considering it was too bulky, loud, and inaccurate. Meanwhile, I did take the box of rifle ammo the guy had stashed near the back, along with an army knife and box of matches. I'd have to give this backwoods hillbilly credit; this asshole was prepared for the apocalypse, which was more than I could say for myself.

As I searched the rest of the living room for anything useful, the severity of what I'd just done began to catch up with me. There's no way I could pass this off as just a search for supplies, considering I had a) gone off on my own without telling anyone again, and b) literally sprinted through the forest where it was likely there was nothing to be found. I pushed my thoughts aside, telling myself that I could make it on my own again. I didn't need any of them and they sure as hell neither needed nor wanted me.

A brisk thought of Carl made my midsection feel warm with some sort of emotion, but I pushed it away quickly and felt my mood grow into a bitter cold. Whatever I was doing here, it wasn't selfish. Those assholes people would be way better off without a rebellious kid tagging along that wasn't even kin to anyone there. I had travelled nearly a thousand miles by myself and I surely didn't need a group to travel a few thousand more.  
 _As far as I'm concerned, we can get way farther apart than that and it'd suit me just fine_ , I thought darkly. I scoffed at my own thoughts and focused once more on my scavenging. The living room held nothing more than a few dead mice in the fireplace and crusty furniture. I wasn't expecting better luck in the kitchen, either.

Just as I had predicted, the kitchen held nothing more than a few stale granola bars and cans of soup. I only took one can, since they'd be too heavy with my shoulder being fucked up a little bit still and my rifle on my back as well, but I opened one of the other ones right away just to ease the pinched, hissing feeling in my stomach.

I almost gagged as my knife sawed through the metal and yellow-orange watery fluid spilled out onto the floor. I instantly dropped the can in the sink. Peaches, the only thing I was allergic to and completely disgusted by, just so happened to be the first can I picked up. After shaking the can I had put in my bag, I was content to realize that the can in the sink did not have the same contents as the one I picked up.

I grabbed another can and sawed that one open, taking an experimental sniff just in case. This one smelled less like my personal deathfruit that resided in the sink, and once I had it completely cut open, I saw that it was actually coagulated chicken-noodle soup. Though I'd never cared for the stuff before the apocalypse hit, I was now pretty thankful to just drink the shit straight out of the can.

I set the can in the sink once I had drained it out of habit, although I knew it didn't matter either way. I exited the kitchen once I'd finished and went down the short hallway, knocking slightly on the right-side door to draw any biters to the entrance. I heard no sound inside, but you can never be quite sure, you know?

I eased the door open slowly and found myself inside of a bathroom, pretty clean for having been in an apocalypse about three years. But, considering this place was practically untouched, I figured it hadn't been used in about the same amount of time. I stared into the dusty mirror mounted on the medicine cabinet, almost surprised at how different I looked. Of course, I didn't know what, or when, I was comparing myself to, but I just knew I looked a little off. Either I had a mild case of dysmorphia, or I was maturing faster than I realized.

Strands of my hair hung flatly against my cheeks, that had lost almost all of their chubbiness from when I was in grade school. I was flushed pale in some spots of my face and flecked with dirt or blood in others, giving my entire face a somewhat brutal contour to it. I couldn't tell if I liked it or not, but I realized now that I did look more masculine than feminine, if you ignored my pouty lips and doe eyes. I took a breath and watched myself do it.

I turned and rifled through my messenger bag. My hand discovered the sheath for the jagged army knife I had found earlier, and I pulled it out. Holding it to the back of my head, I had hardly a moment's hesitation before I grabbed my ponytail and jerked the knife upward.

It didn't take but a few moments to saw off nearly half my hair. I had no reaction other than blinking as I stared at my departed ponytail, taking the holder from it and stowing it in my back pocket. My cut-off hair, however, I dropped into the trash can beside the toilet and went on my way casually, pulling open the medicine cabinet.

There wasn't much left on the shelves; a few prescription pill bottles that wouldn't be of much use to me (last time I checked, I had neither hip dysplasia nor a need for cranberry-lime flavoured diet pills), a roll of gauze, cough syrup that may or may not be for kids (it had a cartoon bee on it, along with a promise of a syringe-type thing inside the box), and an unopened bottle of sleeping pills. I took the gauze, cough syrup, and sleeping pills.

With the bathroom cleared out and the sun beginning to shine at near full-strength through the front windows, I begrudgingly decided to finish the house by checking through the bedroom. I went through my same ritual: knocking on the door, just barely opening it to check inside, and finally, actually entering the room. Once I went in, though, I immediately backed out and slammed the door. If there was one smell I could not stomach, it had to be the stench of death. Biters, they weren't as bad. They were getting fresh air and all that. But the smell of musty corpses locked in a room for three years sent me over the edge to dry-heaving in the hallway, forcing myself to keep down the chicken-noodle soup I had only minutes earlier. I focused my mind on other things, like the single bird chirping outside, and I managed to hold down the meager contents of my stomach for now.

"Can't just have on good day, can I?" I commented bitterly to myself, stepping outside the house and shutting the door. I vowed I would not step foot inside there ever again, and I figured it was a promise I could keep to myself. I had just started off the opposite way I came when I heard a familiar voice.  
"Goin' somewhere?"

I wanted to groan when I heard Daryl's unenthused tone come from just behind me. I turned around and swung my head dramatically to give him a dark glare. "What do you want, Dixon?"

"Don't call me that, girl." He began, hoisting himself up from where he was leaning against a tree. I felt annoyed at the amount of casualty he had with this whole situation. "Were you really thinkin' you could just run off like that?"

"What's it to you?" I couldn't keep my voice from becoming a sort of a snarl, crossing my arms over my chest. Daryl gave me a snort before he responded.

"You're nothin' to me, kid. But I'm dead sure your little boyfriend will miss your company." His voice had a slight mocking tone that made me want to punch him. My cheeks heated up pink and I tensed.

"That is _none_ of your business!" I gave him an extra-forceful glare, but Daryl didn't seem affected.

"It ain't any of mine, but it might be Rick's." His eyes focused on his crossbow as he spoke, aimlessly fiddling with the string as if he was bored of the conversation already.

"Is that a threat?" I stepped forward, trying to show him I wasn't about to be intimidated by the likes of him.

"Could be, 'less you wanna come back." Daryl met my glare with a look that was already calling me out on my bullshit, even before I said it.

"I don't belong there and both of us know it." I responded hotly, feeling a little ashamed of myself at the same time.

"We both know, right there, is the most bullshit ever to come out of a kid's mouth." Daryl offered no explanation in why, as if he was simply trying to sway me with that weak argument.

Just when I was about to counter him, he spoke before me. "But…" Daryl drew out the word with his footstep as he swung back around so his back was to me. "If you don't want to come back, I guess I'll have to be the one to tell Carl his little girlfriend ran away 'cause she don't like him no more."

"You will not!" I yelled after him as he began walking away. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I started after him without knowing what I was doing.

"Come back here!" I hissed. Daryl stopped a few feet ahead of me and turned around lazily, a triumphant grin on his face.

"What'll it be, girl? Break the kid's heart and go off on your own, or come back to the road and we all live happily ever after?" I knew before he had finished that he had won. I don't know where he learned it, but Daryl Dixon happened to have one of the best persuasion tactics I'd ever seen. Once I had finally, begrudgingly, agreed to go back, I decided that I had at least a little bit of respect for him.

You learn something new every day.

I stayed walking directly behind Daryl, staring past him as we left the woods and headed towards the camp. It dawned on me earlier that he hadn't said anything about my abrupt haircut, but then again, he never seemed like the one to care about that kind of stuff. Really, I only hoped he wouldn't rat me out to Rick.

As we approached the camp, I saw that the person on watch was none other than-you guessed it-Rick Grimes. He furrowed his eyebrows in a disgruntled expression and got down from where he was perched on top of his car, his glare seeming directed at me. Daryl stopped so quickly in front of him that I had to dig my toes into my boots so that I didn't fall forward and on him. Brushing the longer strands of hair left into my hat sheepishly, I took place beside Daryl.

"You found her." Rick pointed out. I had to keep from rolling my eyes at this utterly blatant statement and prepared to explain myself, but Daryl spoke over me first.

"Yeah. Didn't I tell you she was comin' with me to hunt some more? Didn't catch nothin', but she knows how to use a crossbow now." Daryl held his casual slouch and eye contact with Rick as he spun his tale. Rick gave his friend a half-skeptical look, but seemed to believe him enough to let me off the hook.

Daryl and Rick kept talking (presumably about me, I wasn't listening) while I looked around the makeshift camp. No doubt they'd be leaving soon, and I had no idea if I was actually going with them or not. Neither Tara nor Michonne were there yet, and Carl seemed absent too. Not that I cared, I mean.

I turned back to see Rick staring intensely towards me. I stepped back a little in surprise, giving him a puzzled look. "What's that look for?"

"I was waiting for your response." When my expression changed to embarrassed that I had missed it, he repeated, "I asked what you cut your hair with. That kitchen knife of yours wouldn't make a clean cut like that."

I self-consciously touched the back of my head, half-surprised he noticed. "I… I found a hunting knife a little while back, and… I don't know. I didn't like having long enough hair that biters could grab on to."

Even though my answer was total bullshit, Rick took it with a grain of salt. In truth, I just needed to cut something, and better my hair than something that would need actual medical attention, right?

"Dad?" I glanced back to see Carl walking directly towards us, looking right past me and towards Rick. I didn't take it to heart, knowing we both had to act around others now.

"What is it?" Rick tried to dismiss both Daryl and I with a wave of his hand while turning to focus on Carl, but I crossed my arms and stayed where I was. He paid me no mind, however, and continued conversation with his son.

Carl only cast me a quick glance in between words. "Judith's coughing again."

Rick rubbed his hand on his face, glancing at the silver car ahead of him. Now that I focused on it, I _could_ hear the faint sound of baby coughs. "Do we have anything to give her?"

Carl shook his head, glancing back. "Carol said we've got coughing medicine, but it's meant for adults. I don't want to risk it when she's this little."

Without a word, I slid my bag off and set it with a thump on the ground, beginning to rifle through it. While Rick and Carl exchanged confused looks, I pulled out the box of child's cough syrup and inspected the label, which did indeed advertise a little, nubby syringe to stick down the baby's throat so they didn't die while you gave them it. I closed my bag and slung it over my shoulder once more, silently handing the box to Carl.

He held it in front of him to read it, mumbling the words while doing so. Carl glanced back up with an appreciative smile, but he still seemed a little confused. "That's kinda… coincidental. Where'd you find this."

"Does it matter?" My voice sounded a little condescending; although I didn't mean it to come out that way, I turned and pointed towards the car with Judith in it so that I couldn't see Carl's expression. "Just go give some to your sister."

"Thanks." He gave me a brief nod and rushed back to Judith. Carl paused after opening the door and looked back; Rick was currently occupied with hoisting himself back onto the top of the car.

Carl made sure he caught my eye before giving me a sweet smile and a slight wink that I hardly caught. My cheeks flushed pink at the dumb, romance-novel type gesture, but I couldn't deny that I found it cute. The warm, cheerful feeling caught itself in my stomach again as I saw him smile, and this time, I didn't have the heart to shut it down.


	7. Things Get a Little Strange

My heart beat fast as I stared straight in front of me, frozen solid. Growls and groans came from seemingly every direction, blocking my senses. I didn't have to say anything. Everyone knew what was happening. They'd been caught in a herd before. I hadn't.

So, them, being educated in this field, they picked off as many as they could silently before hiding under the cars or inside, slipping under the biter's radar. Me? I panicked. It was stupid what I did, but I did the only thing I knew how to do when something like this happens: run.

I sprinted off into the forest, just barely ducking out of the hold of a one-armed biter. Adrenaline managed to give me a significant energy boost, but make my mind so foggy I couldn't think correctly. I headed towards the way I _thought_ the redneck's shack I found yesterday was, the way I hoped was correct. Soon enough, after dodging greedy hands and snarls from every side, I finally saw the weather-stained log structure come into view.

My mind cleared enough to realize that there was no way I could get out of this without risking my neck once or twice. The first time was when I stupidly ran instead of following everyone else's example, and number two was coming up. The porch of the cabin was crowded with the dead things, catching whiff of me and all turning towards me at once. Now, I've been in some pretty scary situations before, but this one takes the cake. This horror-movie style seen was most likely going to be the death of me.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was backed against a tree and picking off the biters best I could. My heavy breathing and racing heart made me a bad shot, but five out of… maybe a dozen… were down by the time I had to reload. By now, some were way too close for me to have time to do so, so I turned to my second and last defense. My jagged survival knife had taken place of the kitchen knife last night, and it took only one clean stab to the underside of the lead biter's chin to make him collapse like a burning building.

The panic earlier had made me miscalculate. Three corpses were now stumbling after me rapidly, backing me up farther and farther. I stepped forward and tried to stab the first biter in the face, but she caught my wrist. Now it was my turn to pull away, trying to wrench my wrist out of her grip. Finally, knowing I wouldn't win this, I let her pull me towards her.

…Giving me the perfect opportunity to sink my blade into her cheek, of course. She went limp. Unfortunately, she was still holding on to me and fell forward, pinning me against the ground. As I struggled to push the heavy body off me, the other two biters growled menacingly and dropped to their knees/bloody stumps to prepare to tear me apart. However, no matter how hard I pushed or pulled the corpse on top of me, it was crushing me and was practically immobile. Just when I was close to accepting my fate over how fucking stupid I'd been, two separate shots rang out. Both the biters collapsed. On me.

While I was grateful for their death, I wasn't grateful for the fact they were forcing the air out of my lungs, making my breath come in short pants as I worked myself hard to push the bodies off me.

"You're welcome." Carl's voice murmured as he appeared within my vision, holstering his pistol and helping to roll the bodies off of me. I was now covered in blood, guts, and grime, not that I really cared at this moment. I pushed myself up to a standing position, practically doubling over with my hands on my knees, trying hard to breathe normally.

"Woah, you okay?" He gently touched my shoulder. I held my hand out and nodded, straightening out my back.

"Fine… fine. Just a little freaked out." I picked up my knife off the ground and wiped it on my jeans, sticking it back in the sheath.

"I was too. Why the hell did you run off like that?" His voice changed from concerned to accusing. I sighed and leaned back against the tree. I understood why he was upset; I'd get mad if he just ran off abruptly like that too.

"I just… got scared, you know? I've never seen that many biters in one… one group, at a time…" I was still feeling rather shaken up from the entire experience, but I vowed to keep calm and managed to wring my hands together tightly so they wouldn't quiver. Carl didn't notice.

"It's called a horde." He stated matter-of-factly, the frown etched into his face staying put. I didn't like the disapproving look in his eyes: it made me feel uncomfortably guilty. I didn't even know why he was making such a big deal out of this.

Thankfully, I was saved from having to give him a snarky answer from more groans of the undead coming from the distance. From the amount of sound, there must have been dozens of them nearby. I glanced at Carl and wasn't surprised to see that he didn't look afraid, but rather annoyed by the inconvenience of _more_ walkers.

"Follow me." Carl grabbed my hand and, despite my squeak of surprise, practically dragged me towards the redneck's cabin in front of us. He didn't know I had been there before, but I pretended I hadn't by letting him lead me into the house.

As soon as we got inside, however, something fell to the ground around the corner in the kitchen. I instantly put my hand on the hilt of my knife, and Carl glanced back to make sure the door closed softly. Angry muttering followed in the other room. Carl caught my eye and held his finger to his lips in warning. I nodded, holding back a "I know what to do, dumbass," eyeroll.

I assumed Carl was used to being in the lead, as he slipped past me to catch a glimpse at who was rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets. One glance and he stepped back inside our safezone of the half-hidden entryway, giving me a confident nod and gesturing for me to come closer. I took a silent step towards him and he whispered to me softly.

"I can't tell who they are, but they don't look dangerous. We'll sneak up on them at the same time, okay?" Carl waited for my affirmative nod before dropping to a low stance and slowly exiting the entryway. I followed, splitting off to the left side of the anonymous figure. They were completely oblivious to both Carl and I's presence, as they continued murmuring to themselves as they observed cans and boxes pulled from the cabinet's depths.

"Ready?" Carl mouthed from the adjacent side of the room. I gave him a brief nod before silently unsheathing my knife. We both straightened a bit and closed in.

Carl aimed for his arm, which was poised on the wooden counter, but he missed by just a hair. The person pulled back and instantly rammed their fist into his face. I heard a crack and Carl stumbled backwards, holding his hand to his nose as crimson liquid began seeping through his fingers.

As soon as Carl had been hit, my opponent whirled around and took a swing at me, their other hand going for their ax in it's loop on their belt. I stepped in and took a slash at their arm, but managed to just barely be missed by the chop of their ax. My foot slipped on miscellaneous liquid in a puddle on the kitchen floor and the back of my head made contact with the cheap linoleum.

Everything spun. I could see Carl beginning to regain himself, pulling his pistol out of the holster on his belt. However, our attacker was too nimble for him and already had their ax poised above my head, ready to fall at any given moment.

While I didn't exactly accept this fate, I considered that if I _were_ to die here, I'd want to know who my killer was. I studied the person's face, which was hidden by a bloodstained surgical mask around their mouth and nose, broken glasses, and a dark blue hood. I made semi-second eye contact with the person. They had warm brown eyes with a cold sheen from the heat of battle.

Wait, those eyes. I remember those.

"…Jackson?" I asked softly, puzzled.

The attacker's arm immediately went limp and they dropped their ax on the ground next to me. They pushed their hood off and pulled their surgical mask down in the same movement, staring right at me in disbelief.

"Bethy?" He asked in incredulity, looking at the least shocked to see me. Carl, behind him, cautiously lowered his gun.

"You know this guy?" Carl had joined our moment of astonishment, but there was a bitter tang in his voice. I nodded and slowly pushed myself up to a sitting position, briefly brushing my fingers along the matted hair at the back of my head to see if there was any blood. There was none. On me, anyway. Carl's nose was still bleeding horribly, but it didn't seem broken, as he was still speaking clearly.

"Yeah." Jackson vocalized my answer, holding out his hand to help me up. I gratefully took it and he hoisted me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me once I was standing. I let out a soft giggle of relief, draping my arms over his shoulders in a quick hug. He let me go soon after, though he continued to help me stand.

"Hold on." Carl shoved his pistol back into the holster, crossing the room towards us. Jackson gave me a momentary glance of "Who's this douche?", but I gave him a slight nod to show that he was alright by me. Jackson relaxed.

"You're saying that… you know this guy? Jackson, was it?" Although I couldn't understand why Carl still sounded so hostile, I didn't try to calm him down any. I just nodded again and offered no explanation, grabbing a rag off the counter and dipping it in the rainwater that collected in an old coffee-can on the open window. Carl gave me a cross look as I approached him and gently pressed it to his nose.

"You got a lil' somethin right there." Jackson snickered as I kissed Carl's cheek before turning back to him. Seeing my old friend again, no matter how battered and worn he looked, was a sense of relief and security that I thought I'd never feel again. At first, I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but once I saw the smile still remaining in the depths of his eyes and the birthmark along his neck, I fully recognized him and accepted it without second thought. After how Carl was acting around him, however, it gave me the slightest seed of doubt.

"Did you even recognize me?" I tried to lighten the raincloud that had settled over us by Carl's sour attitude with an age-old question. Jackson leaned against the counter and shook his head with a chuckle.

"I didn't, until I saw your hat. You've changed so much, Bethy." Jackson's smile gave me another tiny burst of security inside me, the feeling that everything would be okay, after all.

"Bethy." Carl all but snorted to himself, his eyes downcast and glaring to the side when I glanced at him. Jackson acted as if he didn't notice.

"How long's it been?" He asked with an air of nostalgia. "Few years?"

"One year, seven months." I didn't realize I'd been tracking that time until now. When I got separated from him all those months ago, I thought it was the end of me. How wrong I was.

"Man…" Jackson shifted his bag, and for a moment it felt as if we had all forgotten about the biter horde just outside the door. That was, in fact, until I softly asked,

"What about Raven and Kian?"

Jackson cast an uncomfortable glance toward the door and shook his head. My heart clenched, but I couldn't say I wasn't expecting that answer.

A long minute of silence passed over us, save for the moans and grumbles of a few dozen biters shuffling past us leisurely. In fact, that minute dragged on for five more until the groaning had faded to background noise, not nearly as harsh as before, when they were feet away from us with only a thin wall in between.

"Anyway, Bethy…" Jackson began in a softer tone with the knowledge of biters not too far. "Who's this guy?"

He cast a slightly-suspicious glance toward Carl. Carl returned it with a glare.

"Oh, he's just one of the people in the group I'm travelling with right now." I explained calmly, hoping I could douse the fire in the situation. However, I realized that I actually had helped close to nil.

"A-Anyway…" I began carefully, stepping in between them. "How about you two introduce yourselves to each other? Since you both know me, I mean, maybe you should…"

I trailed off, but Jackson took up the hint and flung his arm out lazily in an attempted offer to shake hands. "I'm Jackson Strange. Yes, that's actually my name."

"Carl Grimes." Carl didn't move and stayed where he was, pressing the wet rag to his bloody nose. Jackson cleared his throat awkwardly and let his arm fall back at his side.

"Sorry about the… uh, nose thing. You startled me, I guess." Jackson apologized, running his fingers through his hair.

"That's understandable, right, Carl?" I stared at him and urged him to agree with my eyes. He only glanced to the side and mopped up the last of his blood.

"Danny, can I talk to you for a minute?" Carl asked hesitantly. I nodded and followed him to the far corner of the living room, where he gently held on to my wrist and stared into my eyes.

"He's not coming back with us. You know that, right?" I snuck a glance back at Jackson, who gave me a casual half-wave. He knew we were talking about him.

"Why not? He's a good shot, you know, and he can help with-" Carl cut me off as I hastily explained the benefits. He shook his head seriously.

"No, Danny. It's not happening. We can't just bring a random guy back to camp with us." He spat out the words, his tone still edged with annoyance.

"You took me in, didn't you? I was nothing more than a little kid following all of you, so why is he any different?" When Carl didn't respond, I felt a little spark of anger well up in me. "Huh? Why?"

"It just _is_ , okay?" He spoke as if he was stung, but I knew he wasn't. I could see right through him by now.

"You just don't want competition over me, do you?" I was bold enough to go there just because of how truly dumb Carl was acting. He furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"That's not the reason!" He hissed. I blew him off with a huff and turned around, sashaying back towards Jackson with an extra bit of sass thrown in just to pester Carl.

"Hey, Jackson, do you want to come back with us?" I ignored Carl practically rushing after me and batted my eyelashes sweetly at him. Jackson gave me a shrug and, after a moment, nodded.

"Sure. If you're both okay with it, that is…" His gaze trailed over to Carl, who was sulking angrily. Just as Carl was about to tell him it wasn't, I butted in and spoke for him.  
"No, no, it's no trouble at all!" I led Jackson towards the door and even slipped my arm into the crook of his, beginning to talk excitedly about all that had happened. I knew it would leave Carl fuming, especially when I turned back to pucker my lips in a kiss and wink at him.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

"What was that all about?" Carl cornered me as I was getting ready to head out with Maggie. Well, not as much _cornered_ as _kept me pinned against the back of the car with his hands on both sides of me_. I met his gaze equally, my calm eyes meeting his agitated ones. I couldn't help the small smile perking up my lips.

"I was just saying 'hi' to my old friend. What's the harm in that?" Carl was clearly unsatisfied with my answer, practically talking over me as I finished.

"You weren't 'saying hi' to him. You were _flirting_. There's a difference." I almost relished how annoyed he was with me. It was so easy to make him jealous, and while I always felt awful about it later, it was fun to see how he reacted afterwards and during.

"So?" I pretended to be clueless, shrugging my shoulders innocently. Footsteps nearby made me glance warily to the side, but Carl kept his gaze fixed on me and even tilted my head back to face him when I still stared in the direction of the noise.

I took one glance at the furious expression on his face and couldn't help but giggle, trying to pacify him by being cute. "Oh my goodness…Are you jealous that he'll steal me away?"

"I am not _jealous_ , Danny!" He seemed to be even more upset by the fact that I was getting a kick out of this, giggling on and on and batting my eyelashes again. Carl rolled his eyes and glanced away for a moment before looking back again.

"What're you gonna do if I _do_ like him, hm?" I grinned whimsically, reaching up and intertwining my fingers in locks of his hair. Carl tried to jerk his head away.

"You're technically mi-" He got cut off as I pushed his head towards mine. I closed the gap between us with a gentle kiss on the lips. Carl instantly went docile, blinking like a deer in headlights as I pressed my lips against his. All the talk about Jackson had dissipated in seconds, just as I'd intended.

I stepped away and gave him another sweet smile. Carl looked like he was trying hard to choose between being upset at me for drawing him in just to push him away yet again and being dazed over the sudden smooch. However, I think he finally decided on the 'dazed' option, still having his hands planted on either side of me when Michonne turned the corner.

She cleared her throat and Carl jumped, stepping away from me guiltily. Michonne rolled her eyes and waved me away. I didn't glance back at Carl as I followed her in silence towards where Maggie was waiting, checking the ammo in her gun.

"Discreet." Michonne murmured.


	8. What's the Problem, Baby?

"So, you'll never believe it, but…" Jackson trailed off again, biting his lip and staring at the sky. I waited patiently for him to get back on track.

"Sorry," He apologized once his attention snapped back to me. He fingered the stem of a dandelion he plucked along the side of the road. "I get distracted sometimes."

"That's alright." I assured him, twirling the oozing stems into a weaving pattern to create a makeshift flower crown. It was turning out lopsided and loose, but as my first attempt with a lack of instructions, I figured it looked rather royal.

"Anyway, do you… still have it?" Jackson shifted so he was looking towards me instead of the forest. We had stopped, after fourteen hours of driving, on another roadside. But this time, it was an actual rest stop, or used to be. Jackson and I sat at one of the picnic tables positioned on the murky grass. Thankfully, Rick and his group were more accepting towards Jackson than they were me at first, but they seemed to still be walking on thin ice around him, even though he posed no threat. I understood that motive nonetheless.

"I do." I needed no verification to his vague question and pulled my bag up beside me, plopping it on the faded green bench. I unzipped the inside pocket and reached inside, pulling out a tether necklace with an aluminium dog-tag attached roughly. The tag had suffered a little wear-and-tear and the letters were a bit botched, but it was still the same as ever.

"You do…" Jackson confirmed. He pulled back his sleeve and showed me his own plate, tied upon a bracelet chain for his. Our own sort of friendship jewelry, in the form of a quote from our favourite T.V. show before all of this. But, then again, the etched letters spelling out "Four days 'till the lights go out" on both of ours seemed rather fitting to our situation now more than ever. Jackson saw it too and smiled warmly at me.

"Really seems like a hell on earth, doesn't it?" I asked, abandoning my ugly crown and pushing it off the table. Jackson nodded gravely, glancing down at his hands.

"We're still here, though. Still alive, even after all this. And…" He leaned on his arms on the table, letting out a soft sigh. "Together again. I mean, we thought we'd never see each other again, right?"

"Right." I agreed briefly, sudden flashbacks of that night bursting through my mind like firecrackers exploding into a whole barrage of colours in the dark sky.

Close to about two years ago, Jackson and I had been in a group with about four of our other friends. Raven, Kian, Amythyst, and Jessie. Of course, being fourteen/thirteen year olds with no sort of leadership system took a massive toll on our ragtag group of survivors, and it was a wonder we didn't fall apart in the two years we were together. Our group used to be larger, with some of our parents and even a few strays we picked up, but one bad accident in a college dorm we holed up in and our numbers deteriorated to just us six. Still, we made it work.

Then, after about three weeks straight of traveling, trying to get to somewhere far enough away to get at least a little bit of quiet, disaster struck. We were all half-starved, none of us knew how to drive through all the rubble, so we had to walk everywhere (not that there was any hope of us finding a vehicle with enough fuel, anyway). We'd been going down a highway, on foot still, around seven-thirty when Amythyst and Raven began arguing.

I don't remember what it was about. It was something petty, something utterly foolish, but the sharp feelings in our stomachs made our tones even sharper, and even with Jackson and I assuming the roles as leaders, there still wasn't high hopes for any shelter being found, nor food. Two days trekking on practically empty stomachs did not improve moods, and Amythyst and Raven were holding us up even more by literally stopping the group in the middle of the road to bicker.

From then on, it was a house divided. Kian and Jessie agreed with Amythyst, and Jackson and I just wanted it to be over, as did Raven. But Raven nor Jackson were the type to forgive, and I couldn't say I wasn't stubborn myself. We kept going, but only at the extent of grasping the pipe dream of finding a safe spot to stay for at least a while, until this argument blew over.

Thankfully, after four days of surviving on berries and nuts (and a few squirrels and/or rabbits Jackson and Jessie managed to bag), we found a small village. I don't remember the name of it, but it was definitely a back-woods hillbilly town. A couple dead biters and the clearing out of a grocery store later, we had decided that we'd stay. For the time being.

We found a little clothing store on the corner of a street, bordering the edge of the town. It was cozy, but a little _too_ cozy for six people that were constantly on edge. I was sick of it, and it seemed like Jessie was too. But, neither of us could convince the others to stop arguing. So, we stupidly kept to ourselves.

One night, our quarreling got really bad. Somebody started it and… it ended badly. Two hours of muttered insults under breath, angry remarks, and blatant hatred towards each other. Amythyst went over the line. She said something so bitter and cruel to Raven that she just…

A half-second draw, a single squeezed off shot, and everyone went mad. Amythyst dropped like a brick thrown from a five-story window and blood spattered Kian, who was standing behind her. Kian was always the most rational out of all of us, but in his state of shock, he lunged for Raven. I was standing just beside her. Jackson should've helped her, but he grabbed me instead. And we ran.

As you can guess, an unsilenced shot in a biter-infested neighborhood is like ringing the dinner bell for starving orphans. Wide-eyed and feeding on our adrenaline, Jackson led me through the streets. His head was clear. Mine wasn't. The shot still rang in my ears and my eyes were fogged by the blinding light that wasn't there.

We could still hear the screams of our friends. Jackson stopped me in the first clear area that we found, turned towards me, and hastily said:

"Take this, and run. I'll meet up with you once I help them. Keep going west."

That was all, and he was gone. I stared at the sheathed kitchen knife he had pressed into my hand for a good two minutes until I heard the growls drawing in on my heels. I should've gone back, I should've helped Jackson, but I just kept running. Nobody considered the fact that a teenage girl who just watched her friend get shot wouldn't know west from north.

I didn't see Jackson for a good long while, as you might have guessed. I thought he was dead, but I never dwelled on it. Staring at him now, sitting in front of me, _alive,_ made something burst to life in front of me. A tiny bit of fear that had planted itself in the back of my brain was cast into the light, where before it hung back, shrouding itself in darkness in order to remain in my head.

"I'm glad you're alive." The sincerity in my voice surprised even me. Jackson almost blushed, his nail digging into the dandelion head.

"I'm glad you are, too."

Our moment was cut short by Maggie tapping on our table to get our attention. We both glanced up simultaneously, and she nodded towards the cars. "Saddle up."

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

The car ride through the rural parts of Georgia was bumpy and uncomfortable, but now I had a friend to join me in the back of the car. Sasha had decided to ride with us this time, so she took the seat where I sat before (next to Rosita), since I said I could sit in the very back just fine. Jackson offered to ride with me, so here we are.

Another crack in the asphalt sent our playing cards sliding. Jackson shuffled them back into place, then rolled his eyes and shoved them back into the battered, plastic-coated and peeling box. I huffed in boredom and turned to stare out the thin windows while Jackson laid down on the carpeted floor. Trees, trees, and more trees blurred together as we sped by, following the lead of Rick's car. Turning around, I saw that Abraham's car and Daryl on his motorcycle were in careful pursuit, only going as fast as we did. Nothing interesting caught my eye, save a few rambunctious biters, so I flumped back down.

Jackson had his eyes closed and hood drawn over his face, blocking out the light. It was late afternoon and the sunlight was strong and cold. I'd found a leather jacket just about my size in one of the cars, overturned, at the rest stop. It was a good fit and kept the heat in, and it seemed like real leather-something a biter couldn't claw or gnaw their way through easily.

Tara turned around in the passenger seat from where she was talking softly with Michonne. "You guys holding up okay back there?"

Sasha and Rosita exchanged a glance before nodding. I looked down at Jackson, who had pulled up part of his hood and opened one eye to see me. He held up his hand in an "okay" gesture. I gave Tara a thumbs-up and the most of a smile I could muster up.

Tara turned back around. I glanced out the window once more, only to see Abraham run over half of a still-moving biter. I held back a giggle and lay down beside Jackson. I studied him, and for some reason unknown even to myself, I began to compare him and Carl.

Almost as soon as I began, I shook off the thought. Jackson was my friend, nothing more. No matter how much I liked teasing Carl, I would have to be loyal to him.

I lay there until I felt drowsy, all the time I'd spent alone with Carl replaying like a movie behind my eyelids. When we first met, the library, when we went scavenging, ect. I smiled sleepily and curled up on my side, the bumps and dips of the unstable roads now soothing me to sleep like a crash-test dummy's lullaby.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o

"Danny!" Jackson's harsh whisper accompanied his elbow as he jutted me awake. I snorted unceremoniously and rubbed my eyes, hoisting myself up extra-slow just to annoy Jackson. He was clearly feeling urgent about something, but seeing as we weren't moving anymore, I couldn't guess what.

"Whaddaya want?" I grumbled, upset at being awoken so early when I'd hardly gotten any sleep the night before. I ran my fingers through my hair and opened my eyes, seeing Jackson with an astonished look on his face as he pointed out the back window.

"What?" I asked irritably. His face drew up into a smile as he turned to stare out the window, expecting me to as well. I huffed and followed his gaze.

It was fixed on Daryl, who was talking to Carol. Or, Carol was attempting to make small talk and Daryl was apparently giving her short, abrupt answers, as he usually did. But, they were practically best friends, and it seemed like Carol was the only one besides Rick who could really get through Daryl's protective screen to him.

"I don't get it." I turned back to Jackson, puzzled. He had his hands bunched up around his mouth with a dumb grin on his face. I recognized that expression.

"Who's that?" His voice was excitedly high. I chuckled a little bit and glanced back at Daryl once more.

"That's Daryl Dixon. He's the hunter of the group, per-say. Mostly because he's a redneck and uses a crossbow, which is quieter and cleaner than a gun." I explained simply, rubbing the last bit of sleep from my eyes, my irritability with Jackson melting away. He was clearly developing a puppy-love sort of crush here.

While Jackson made a soft squee-ing sound, I gazed around the car. Michonne was staring at a roadmap in the front seat, tracing her finger along one of the lines. Rosita and Tara were unmistakably absent, and Sasha was keeping watch outside of the car, leaning against the passenger-side window with her rifle slung over her shoulder.

Over the past few weeks, I had come to respect Sasha. She might be a lone wolf most of the time, but she got things done correctly the first time and didn't expect anyone to clean up after her. Basically, Sasha didn't seem to need anybody else to survive. How I saw it, anyway, she was just doing this group a service by staying on to protect anyone who needed it.

"Hey, Jackson?" I turned back to him. His gaze snapped from the window over to me.

"Yeah?" Jackson brushed hair out of his eyes. I peered out towards Sasha, noticing the dried blood along her sleeve and fresher crimson bordering it. I knew, if she'd gotten hurt, she would keep it a secret.

"Can I borrow some of your binding bandages for a little bit?" Jackson made a slightly offended noise, then shrugged, as if to say 'Fair enough'. Then, after a few seconds of him rummaging around in his bag, he tossed a bundle of fresh bandages into my lap.

"Thanks." I spun back to him before climbing over the seat to get out. "And, by the way, you should just find a sports bra or something. It's not good to do so much activity in binds like this."

Before he could get a word in, I crawled over the seat and shoved open the door. Michonne glanced my way, but looked back down after I waved. Sasha, however, ignored my presence until I walked directly in front of her.

"Sasha?" She glanced down at me briefly. I offered her the bandages silently, and her face scrunched up. When it looked like she was going to protest, she finally looked at her arm, sighed, and took the bandages from me.

"Thank you." Sasha nodded slightly in appreciation, peeling back her sleeve to reveal a jagged cut, half scabbed over. I didn't look that long and hurried back towards the car.

Before I got in, however, a strike of swift movement caught my eye. I turned back to see Carl glance around before waving me over to him. I peered in the window to see Jackson's eyes trained on Daryl, who was looking through one of his saddlebags. Deciding it was safe enough, I made my way over to Carl as unsuspiciously as I could.  
"What's up?" I asked casually when I approached him. Carl tipped his hat back a little bit to make eye contact with me. I gave him a two-fingered wave and a half weirded-out expression while glancing to the side.

"Are… you okay?" When he didn't respond, I felt a little worried. His face didn't portray any biased feelings, however, and his expression stayed rather calm.

"Carl, did you just wave me over here to stare at me, or…?" I had to admit, his silence confused me. A lot.

"I didn't. I wanted to ask you something." He finally says, his pretty gunmetal blue eyes gazing deep into mine. I felt slightly uncomfortable with all his focus centered on me.

"What's the matter?" I shifted with my hand on my hip, trying to show that I wasn't intimidated by his stare, even though I actually was.

"You and Jackson," Straight to the point, isn't he? "What's the story between…you two?"

I was taken aback by how hostile he sounded, but at this point, he had a right to be. I glanced at the ground and adjusted my hat sheepishly. "We're just friends, I swear. Always have been, always will be."

"Really?" This was a rhetorical question, I could tell by the tone of his voice. Carl was no doubt upset. "Why're you always around him, then? Ever since you brought him back here, you've been following him around like a leashed puppy."

"Sorry…" My voice came out meekly. I began to run my fingers through the same strand of hair repeatedly. "I know. I've been an idiot for a few days, I was just excited to see him again. You know?"

"I know." He sighed, looking around as if there was something else he could focus his attention on. "Do you even like me?"

"What?" My gaze shot up at him from where my boot was scuffling rocks around on the asphalt. "Why would you say-"

He cut me off, shaking his head. "No, Danny. I have to know right now."

"Of course I do!" My reassurance fell deaf to him. Carl let out an annoyed sigh and set his jaw, making eye contact with me again.

"No, you're saying what you think I want to hear. I'll ask you again, _Do you actually like me_?" Carl spoke more forcefully this time, his gaze as intense as his words. I met his eyes confidently.

"Carl, I really do like you. Just think back to… about… a week ago. Do you think I would've actually followed you if I didn't like, or even trust, you?" I hoped he believed me this time.

When he only gave me a doubtful expression, I stepped closer. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching us; nobody was. Everyone was occupied.

I wrapped my arms around Carl comfortingly. He tensed up at first, but he relaxed when I rested my head against his shoulder. He even went so far as to set his hands on my hips.

"I love you." I whispered softly. I glanced up to see Carl staring down at me with a half-confused, half-surprised expression. I gave him a gentle smile and pecked his jawbone before untangling myself from the hug.

Just in time, too. Daryl whistled at us barely a few seconds after we stepped away from each other. He motioned for us to get back to the cars, that our little break was over. I grinned at Carl and waved, setting off towards my car.

"Wait, Danny!" He called after me. I heard his footsteps along the road, and Carl grabbed onto my wrist. I turned back.

"I love you too." Without even checking to see if anyone was watching, he pecked my cheek lightly. My entire face turned pink as he let go. When I glanced back, he was gone already. I hurried back to the car, trying to ignore the fact that there was a tiny whisper in my head stating, " _his ass is nice"_.

"What's up with you?" Jackson asked in amusement when I climbed over the seats into the back. My pink blush darkened.

"Carl?" He guessed, looking a little satisfied with himself. I nodded.

"I swear, you two are fuckin' meant to be."

"Shut the fuck up."


	9. Maternal Instinct

"Danny!" Carl's harsh whisper and gentle shove forced me awake. I don't know why I'd been sleeping so awfully much lately, but it seems that I'd fall into such deep sleep that I'd need someone to practically yell at me just to make me register that I was awake. I let out a soft groan, rolling over, but Carl shushed me. I opened my eyes one at a time, groggy with sleep, and saw it was still dark outside. Well, not to mention the fact that I _was_ sleeping outside.

Okay, let me explain. I skipped forwards a few days because, in all honesty, nothing interesting happened. We drove for awhile, we stopped, we checked any building that looked untouched for supplies, we killed walkers, Jackson fawned over Daryl for the millionth time since he knew that he existed. Same old, same old. But, just last night, we had found this huge cottage a little ways into the woods. While it had enough room inside for all of us to sleep in the rooms and then some, I explained that I wanted to be outside, just to get some fresh air for a change. That was a lie. It was cold as fuck, but I needed to be away from people for a little while. Now that I was awake, the bitterness of the cold was getting to me and biting any of my exposed skin it could find.

"Hey…" I murmured, sitting up on my flat stretch of roof. Though I didn't actually mean to fall asleep, the moment I'd gotten comfortable lying down on the slate fixed atop a second-story bay window, I had slipped, once again, into a dozing state. I sniffled and rubbed my eyes with my numb fingers, peering up at Carl.

"Hi." He settled down beside me, looking out into the forest calmly. He was only wearing his normal jeans, t-shirt, and plaid over-shirt, but he didn't seem cold. I didn't question it.

"Why'd you come out here?" Judging from the fact that I had to scale the shingles beside the bay window, I figured that he would've had to do the same thing. He wasn't exactly very quiet, and I was rather surprised that his climbing didn't wake me up.

"Just to… hang out, I guess." Carl gazed up at the wisps of cloud floating carelessly across the moon. I studied his profile as he avoided making eye contact, feeling myself gaining energy from the crisp air. His starlight blue eyes stared right past the sky without reason, his hair ruffled in some places and matted in others. I wondered if he had woken himself up just to come out here with me. If he did, that was a sweet gesture that he would go that far just spend time with me. If he didn't, however, I wanted to know why the hell he wasn't sleeping.

I shifted closer to him casually and slipped my hand in his, intertwining our fingers together. Carl glanced down at our locked fingers momentarily, but shifted his gaze back up at the night sky when he made accidental eye contact with me. I wondered why he was being so shy all of a sudden, but I leaned against him and rested my head on his shoulder nonetheless. Once I relaxed against him, he seemed so much less tense than moments ago, as if he was uncertain that I'd want him up here.

I kissed his cheek briefly. "I'm glad you're here with me."

I got a sudden jolt of nervous energy when he pulled his fingers away from mine. Thankfully, instead of moving away, he slowly put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. I enjoyed being beside him; his body radiated warmth and it didn't seem as cold with someone else here. Not to mention I adored his touch and Carl holding my body against his made my stomach flutter happily. "I hope you never have to leave me…"

I shuffled closer to him and gentle brushed my fingers down his cheek. He flinched away and I instantly pulled back.

"Sorry, sorry…" I murmured, holding on to my wrist with my other hand and digging my nails in, looking away. He only gave me an awkward nod, and it was several minutes before I looked back again.

"Carl… is… is something the matter?" I tried to keep to much worry from residing in my tone. Carl and I had made up several times over in the last few days, so I had no idea what was making him act this way towards me.

He shook his head. His lack of response was beginning to annoy me, but I wouldn't let it show. Instead, I tried a different tactic. I would get this out of him however I had to. "Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No… no, you didn't do anything." Carl's voice, which usually calmed me down, was beginning to agitate me. Why the hell didn't he just tell me what was up with him?  
"Do you need to talk about something? Cause I'll listen If you need me to." I looked up into his eyes, but deliberately avoided eye contact with me.

"Come on, Carl, please? You're acting really weird, and it's confusing me." I rested my chin on his shoulder, not even caring how straightforward I was at this point. He had moved his arm off my shoulder awhile ago, trying to save himself the awkwardness.

He sighed, putting his face in his hand. I tilted my head and waited on an explanation, which I was hoping would finally come. Finally, Carl turned his gaze over to me, but it was like he was looking through me this time. "I just… I feel shitty about how I acted towards you. That one night… in the motel…"

He was vague on purpose, I knew that. But we both had the same thing in mind, so it didn't matter. I sat up straight and sighed loudly, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Is _that_ what all this is about?"

"Yeah, it is." Carl sounded a bit defensive by now, but I didn't want him to feel like he had to justify himself.

I giggled a little bit, despite the hostile look on his face by now. "Carl, come on. You know if I had a problem with it, I would've told you, right?"

"Or you wouldn't have. I don't know how… girls… function." He sounded a little hesitant, which made me grin and giggle even more.

"Honey, really. If you want me to be completely honest, I kind of enjoyed it. I love you either way, Grimes." I raised up on my heels and pecked his lips, not giving him a chance to respond. Finally, he seemed to accept it and pulled me back for another kiss.

I purred into the kiss, his lips soft against mine. We both closed our eyes, leaning towards each other, and it wasn't long before I straddled his lap, cowgirl style, during a series of quick smooches. I giggled when he finally pulled away, a mischievous grin on his face. I didn't know what it meant until his hands grasped my hips and moved me forward even more, nestling me directly against his crotch. I smirked and stuck my tongue out at him before wiggling my bum.

Carl looked momentarily embarrassed and glanced away, his cheeks turning pink. I wrapped my arms around his neck once he turned his gaze back to me and began to run my fingers through his soft hair, working my fingers around all the knots and kinks. He seemed even more embarrassed by this and tried to cover it up by pressing his lips to mine again, forcing me into another hot and heavy make-out session. Carl leaned back against the gradual slope of the rooftop behind him as I began grinding my hips against his.

With one swift wrist flick, I tugged his head back and held him there by his hair, pressing my lips to his throat. He let out a soft gasp, followed by a breathy beginning of a moan. Carl was getting more aroused by the second while I was in control, but I had my own plans.

I dragged my teeth down the side of his neck, nipping softly along his collarbone. Carl's fingers dug into my hips, and I could tell he was aching to rip my clothes off. The friction between us had kept us warm so far, the sexual tension making us both sweat even in the 20 degree cold. Nonetheless, I was forcing him to wait, keeping a tight grip on his hair while teasing his throat with my mouth.

I lightly ran my tongue along his jawline, pecking his lips softly. Then, giving him a gentle tug of his hair, I slid my hand up his shirt and brushed my cold fingers across his stomach. Carl shivered underneath me, a soft moan coming from his lips. I smirked and began to leave kisses all over his neck.

I held in a squeak as he squeezed my bum and pulled me towards him roughly, bucking his hips up impatiently. I made a _tsk_ -ing sound, wiggling my ass against him just to satisfy him for now. Carl groaned, the sound coming out rather guttural from his head being held back. I suppressed a giggle and licked one of his most sensitive spots on his neck, the one I knew he liked the most. I gently nipped this spot over and over, forcing husky breaths from Carl's throat as he writhed underneath my body.

Suddenly, I stopped. I let go of his hair after one little ruffle, and sat back. Carl looked rather surprised at the sudden lack of interest on my part, and I sat on his lap, staring up at him.

"Well, it's pretty late..." I pretended to yawn and stretched, being sure to rub against his obvious bulge while doing so. He set his jaw and his hands slid up my shirt, giving me a start when his freezing fingertips touched my warm flesh.

"Your skin's burning hot..." He murmured as his hands roamed my stomach and sides, not daring to touch my bra just yet. I shivered in delight and he began to go lower, but pretended to try to pull away. "Makes me wonder…"

Carl's eyes met mine and I saw a bit of childish teasing behind the blue. The grin on his face brought blood to my cheeks, turning them a bright pink. Could he see it in the dark.

"Are you hot anywhere else?" Carl's fingers tapped the small of my back, just barely threatening to slip into my jeans. I couldn't help the added blush to this statement.

Before I could respond with a snarky answer, he jerked me forward and met me halfway with a gentle, but firm, kiss. I practically melted in his hands as Carl began to rub just where the bone ended at the front of my hips, letting myself whimper into his mouth. Carl's lips turned up in a satisfied smile as he carefully pulled his hands out from my shirt, letting the cloth fall back naturally. I blinked at him with wide eyes as he pulled away.

"There," Carl said, as if he knew the answer to a question that wasn't even asked. "Now we'll both go to sleep horny and frustrated."

I groaned and fell forward against him. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me forward in a cuddle. For once, I allowed it, and even changed positions so I was lying next to him. After a few moments, Carl joined me, resting his head beside mine. I smiled and wiggled my hips happily as he once more wrapped his arm around me. I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck, giving him a gentle peck.

"Don't you start again." Carl joked, nudging me with his shoulder. I giggled.

"I won't, I won't." I promised, turning on my side and keeping my head tucked in the crook of his neck as I cuddled as close as I could to him. We intertwined fingers again and he rested our hands on his stomach. Carl's heartbeat calmed me and his steady breathing lulled me into a sleepy state, and it wasn't long before I felt myself beginning to doze off in Carl's protection.

"Goodnight, princess." Carl mumbled, kissing my forehead. I was so tired I didn't even fully process what he said, but I knew it'd hit me completely once I awoke.

I was woken with a start, my eyes flying open. I was still lying down, but I was closer to sitting than laying, considering I had just been broken out of my coma-like sleep by the same sense you get when you turn off your alarm and then accidentally fall back asleep on a school day. I suppressed a groan from my throat and dragged my fingers through my knotted hair, sitting up fully.

Carl was still sleeping soundly beside me, looking like a little angel with his hair spread out around him and his breathing calm and steady. His arm had been around me as we slept, but I moved it off once I went to sit up. He didn't even open his eyes when I moved him, just made a soft sound and turned on his side. I smiled happily.

It was early, but my brain was telling me that a full cycle was complete and there'd be no way to fall back asleep now. So, I grabbed my hat from atop my bag and fixed it on my head, gazing out at the grass delving into the dark forest. Early morning meant that the sun just barely shone through the trees, turning everything around a mandarin-orange colour. It wasn't quite as cold as last night, but I slipped my leather jacket over my sweatshirt and prepared to clamber back into the house through the bay window. I hoped I wouldn't slip.

I figured I would let Carl sleep a bit longer, and dropped my bag as quietly as I could into the jutted-out windowsill below. My rifle, I slung across my shoulders, and I set to climbing back down. It wasn't the best thing in the world, considering the fifteen-foot drop if I stepped wrong, but thankfully, I could figure out where my feet were pretty well without looking at them. My hands, on the other hand (get it? Hand jokes? It's funny, okay), were rather upset with having to grasp onto cold, scratchy shingles and I couldn't find a very good hold anywhere. Still, I winged it.

Finally, after struggling to keep a hold on the top of the windowsill, I swung my body heavily into the small room through the window. My foot caught the strap on my backpack and flung it across the room, skittering to a stop against an overturned table. Most houses around here suffered the wear-and-tear of an apocalypse, and this home was no different.

My feet hit the floor with a slight bit of rebound, sending me teetering backwards. I grabbed on to the shards of windowpane still stuck into the wood and felt the jagged glass slice into my palm. I swore as quietly as I could and dropped to my heels, regaining my balance.

After inspecting the minor cuts, I saw that it was only a few slits in the middle of my palm, and while it wasn't too dangerous, it was going to prove to be a nuisance when trying to do any activity requiring hands. I hooked my fingers of my uninjured hand on the strap of my backpack and dragged it over to a fancy-looking chaise lounge, now tattered and faded from the years of weather forcing its way through the broken window.

I propped my rifle up against the side of the chaise and pulled out my medical supplies, knowing exactly where I'd have them. The cuts weren't nearly deep enough to need stitches, so I wiped them over with a damp rag to collect the blood and stuck band-aids over the slits. Then, just for good measure, I wrapped up most of my hand in cheap gauze wrap and tied it at my wrist.

As I stood up and prepared to exit the room, a shrill crying practically shattered my eardrums. Hearing such a loud sound in the quiet of the night made my heart speed up from instinct with the knowledge that noise equals walkers. I dropped my bag and shoved the door open, determined to scout out the sound and figure out why Judith was so upset.

I put my hand on the doorknob to the source room in question, only to be pushed back as the door opened without me. Sasha stepped out, looking completely exhausted, Judith chewing on the bottle that had been stuck in her mouth and was being held there lazily by Sasha's hand. She seemed relieved to see me and held out the baby girl in offering. I stepped back at first, a sudden doubt trailing through my body, but Sasha looked so tired that it felt cruel to leave a crying baby with her. Hesitantly, I let her hoist Judith into my arms. I locked my fingers around her and carried her how I used to carry my cat.

Sasha gave me a tired smile and closed the door in my face. I wasn't offended, however, and awkwardly shifted my weight to properly hold the baby. I wasn't used to this, but I held the bottle for her nonetheless, letting Judith suckle on the rubber nipple until she rejected the empty bottle. Although I now had two objects I didn't know what to do with (one a glass bottle, the other a live baby), I slowly carried Judith back to the tea room, bouncing her lightly in hope I was doing something right.

I didn't have much experience with babies. My neighbor had a baby boy back when I was in fourth grade. She made me babysit him whenever she and my mom were talking, and I hated little kids. I'd never wanted a child myself, considering I saw it as nine months of carrying a fetus inside your body, going through painful spasms and undeniable cravings, only to shove that fetus out of a tiny hole in an excruciating, 10-20 hour process where you're in pain and embarrassed the entire time. Not to mention, after that, you're stuck with a wrinkly crying hunk of human child whose only mission so far is to eat, shit, and cry. Not the ideal way to spend a few years of your life.

However, Judith was special. Babies were rare now, and when I first saw her, it'd been months since I'd seen hide or hair of a creature that tiny. She was cute, in the little-kid way, and her babbling was adorable when it's calm. Though she can be an annoying walker-attracter, I had to take care of her right now. The responsibility had been passed on to me, and although it was just an hour or two of watching her wriggle around, I was now in charge of her. It scared me a bit.

I shifted her into my unwounded hand and pushed the door open, after struggling with grasping the knob without hurting myself. Carl was just climbing back into the room from the window, and when he caught glimpse of me holding his baby sister, a grin broke out on his face. His eyes were bright despite him just waking up probably moments ago.

"C'mere, I'll take care of her." Carl nodded at me, a little bit of a chuckle in his voice. I immediately rushed over, handing the baby over to him. He seemed to know exactly what to do to make her stop her squeaky, almost-crying sounds, and within seconds she had a slobbery smile plastered on her pasty face and had her little fists curled into balls on her chest. Carl was looking down at her with a sweet smile, cooing and bouncing her gently. I sat the bottle down on the chaise lounge and watched him for a moment.

When he noticed my eyes trained on him, he ducked his head down almost in embarrassment. I giggled and stepped towards him. "She looks at you like you're her mama."

Carl chuckled softly, glancing down at Judy. "Well, since her actual mom was never really around, I kind of had to… take the role of mom."

"Mama Carl." I nodded in satisfaction, trying to keep a silly grin from sneaking on to my face. "It fits you well."

"Psh, shut up." He huffed in amusement, keeping his gaze focused on his little sister.

"Mm, mommy~," I moaned in a high-pitched voice, wiggling my hips and stepping towards him. He shook his head as laughs began to bubble up from him, even Judith cooing happily from the newfound excitement in the room.

"You shut up, we've got to look after Judith." Carl was suppressing giggles as he brushed hair out of his eyes. His hair was still fluffed up from sleeping, and his hat was next to my rifle on the floor.

I stepped back. "You're right, it's wrong to be playing around when we've got such a big responsibilityyyy…" I drew the word out carefully, crouching down to snatch his hat up off the floor and plop it on my head. I grinned. "But who said we've ever done something right?"

"That," He began, reaching out with one arm to attempt a reclaiming of his hat. "Is a good point. But, I'm gonna need that back, you know."

Carl's cheeks flushed pink. "Danny, come on, we can't be doing this now. It's stupid to mess around when we've got a baby in the room."  
I rolled my eyes unenthusiastically, biting my lip. "Really, Carl, you think Judy's gonna remember anything here? I mean, the little cutie can't even talk yet. What harm's she got up her tiny sleeves?"

Carl groaned, leaning against the wall. "Here, if you hold off on that…stuff… tonight, then I promise, you'll be rewarded next time we've got a room to ourselves."

"Is that so?" I closed my eyes and let the brim of the hat fall back onto the bridge of my nose, lying my head back. "You better stick to that, Grimes."

"You know I will… whatever your last name is. You know I will."

"And his hair, the way it falls into his eyes so perfectly, it's just…!" Jackson whispered excitedly to me, his hand clutching my forearm as he relayed… I don't know, something that happened this morning. Sasha had come to deliver Judith to Carol early this morning, which meant Carl and I had some time to… I'll let you make a wild guess.

However, I was getting rather sick of Jackson talking so animatedly about his dumb little crush on Daryl Dixon and then clamming up tighter than a locked door whenever Daryl actually showed up. Even though I'd told Jackson so, he only passed it off sheepishly as getting nervous in front of him. While Jackson wasn't one of those people to proclaim 'love at first sight', he does get pretty invested once he has a new infatuation.

"And why don't you just tell him?" I broke through his long-ass story and opened my eyes, blinking boredly at him. Jackson went silent, pressing his lips together. The car ran over a bump, probably a walker, and left both of us unphased, even though we went at least half a foot in the air.

"Well, because, he's like… 25 years older than me? And I'm almost a hundred-percent sure he's straight. There's no way he'd like a seventeen- wait, how old am I?- yeah, sixteen year old transgender guy. It's just not gonna happen, Bethy. It's just a little crush, anyways." He squeezed one eye shut and held his thumb and pointer finger a few centimeters apart, as if to show how insignificant it was. I sighed.

"While I agree with you on that front, why're you still obsessing over him, then?" Jackson looked slightly offended by my statement, setting his jaw.

"It's hardly _obsession_." He scoffed, staring up at the ceiling. I grinned.

"I guess not." I shrugged, snickering.

"Stoppit. That's not funny." He defended himself, crossing his arms. I stopped laughing, suppressing the giggles of laughter wanting to bubble up.

"Fine, but I'm telling Daryl."

"You are not!" Jackson sat bolt upright.

"Am too. Goodniiiiiight!" I rolled over on my side, away from him, and tugged my hood down over my eyes. I ignored Jackson's irritated mumbles and forced my brain to sleep... Again.


	10. Fair Weather Friends

I drummed my fingers on my thigh as I listened to Michonne and Daryl tinker around in the hood of the car. Grunts and annoyed grumbles were coming from the front end of the stagnant SUV. My feet dangled a few inches off the concrete, rain pattering down around me. The car's trunk door was opened above, keeping me sheltered from the water drops for now.

It was the type of cold outside where, before the turn, little kids would deliberately disobey their moms and go splash around in mud and puddles, ruining their school clothes. I remember specifically that, since I was one of those kids once upon a time. Now, however, I didn't exactly confide in cloud showers the way I used to.

"Danny!" Michonne's voice cut through the spatters of raindrops from the front. I pushed myself onto the ground and flicked my hood up, peeking around the back end of the car. Michonne waved me to her.

"What's up?" Rain ran down my leather jacket in streams as I approached her. Daryl had his hands working in the engine, staring down at the clumped metal. Michonne set her jaw and went past me, pulling open the driver's side door and plucking her bag up from the seat.

"Car won't start. We'll have to go on foot. I've gotta finish up a little here," She gestured to where Daryl was presumably harvesting what parts he could from the broken-down engine. I nodded in understanding.

"Who should I tell?" I asked, sparing her the trouble of having to tell me to alert everybody else. Michonne slung her back on her shoulder, then her sword's strap over that. She pointed towards where Carol, Rick, and Maggie were shielding themselves from the rain and staring at a map, covered with somebody's spare coat to keep the water away.

"Alright. Seeya later." I gave her a brief, two-finger wave and tromped through the puddles of collected mud and rainwater until I was standing a few feet from the three and squinting through my rarely-worn glasses. They were already foggy with droplets and hard to see through, but I figured it better than my eyes stinging from the irritation of watery pellets.

"Hey," I began. They all looked up simultaneously. "I'm Michonne's delivery boy. She wants me to tell y'all that the car's broken and it ain't gonna start again. She said we're going to have to make it on foot from here."

Rick exchanged glances with Maggie and Carol in turn, then looked back to me. Carol offered a smile, but Maggie kept her resting neutral expression as rain soaked her hair and ran down her face in rivulets.

"Thanks for the notice." Carol spoke first, rolling up the map and covering it in the coat. She tucked it under her arm and looked to her two companions. "I'll tell the rest of the group if you both can get them ready."

I turned on my heel and walked away before I heard their responses; In all honesty, I didn't really care. I'd done my job and now I had to report back to Michonne and get myself ready to go as well.

"Michonne!" I called from a few feet away. She glanced up and slid her katana blade out of the soaked skull of a limp biter that had snuck up on her.

"I told 'em." I reported, wiping raindrops off my face. Michonne smiled her usual supportive smile.

"Thanks. I'll make sure they know to wait for you, alright? Go get yourself ready."  
I nodded and went back to where I began, the back of the broken-down SUV. The rain was beginning to drizzle away, but the dark clouds up ahead looked like it was only a partial clearing. Still, I took it with a grain of salt and grabbed my bag from against the back of the seats. I did a quick check through of it, making sure everything was still there. While I did, one particular change caught my notice. Everything was there, except for my sleeping pills I'd taken a few weeks ago. However, I brushed it off as a miscount and simply shrugged my backpack onto my shoulders, calling up to Michonne that I was ready.

That night, we were still walking along the road. The sun had already gone down about a half-hour ago, but we didn't stop moving. Despite the lack of usable refuge along the streets and backroads, Rick had said it would be better if we could pack in some more travel if we went through the night just tonight. I wasn't opposed to it, and after awhile, I'd come to respect Rick and his decisions.

I didn't know exactly where we were, but by the road signs, I'd say we were just inside of Virginia. I'd never been here before the turn, but I could tell just from the scenery that we weren't in Georgia or either of the Carolinas anymore. I didn't mind the large amount of travel lately, honestly. The farther away from my home it was, the better.

"You doing okay?" Michonne fell in-step beside me. I glanced up from watching my feet move to see her eyes looking at me calmly.

"I… uh, yeah. I'm fine." I felt a little awkward with her gaze focused on me, but I hid it and gave her a smile. She smiled back.

"Just checking up on you. Rick said we're going to split up at the crossroads just ahead, see what we can see both ways. Both him and I are going to lead a group; do you want to be in mine?" Carl, who was walking just ahead of me, heard Michonne and I talking and looked back.

"Sure, I'll go with you." I agreed as casually as I could.

"I'll join in too, if that's okay." Carl offered, only briefly looking at Michonne before making eye contact with me. I was glad it was dark, or else both would've seen my blush.

"I guess so." Michonne replied as we came upon the X in the road. I tried to read the street names, but the metal signs were too badly shot up to read. I took that as a bad omen, but kept quiet about it. When Carl gently nudged me, I glanced over at him and realized that Michonne and the rest of her group were already beginning to leave.

Glenn, Maggie, and Daryl were among the half-group, all clumped together at the front. Carl and I hung back, since he had been making sure I wasn't going to be left behind. He silently offered me Judith, and I hesitated before allowing him to nestle his baby sister in my arms.

"Hey…Maybe, you know, since you have Judith…" Carl began, glancing around warily. I didn't trust that look and narrowed my eyes at the ground, waiting for the same excuse he's been using the past few days. "Maybe you should hang back if we find something. Just to keep Judith safe."

I could hear the blatant lie in his voice, but I just gave him a strained smile and nodded. I was sick of him telling me to lay low and keep away from the fighting by now, but I'd humour him.

"Oh, good. Thanks." Carl gently pressed his lips to my cheek and I sighed. He didn't seem to notice.

After about five minutes, we came across a collection of still-standing houses. I zipped up my jacket and held Judith closer in her little swaddle, wondering if Carl was right. I couldn't very well fight with a baby. A bitter vapor stung my heart when I realized that he had only given me Judy to make sure I would listen. I cast him a glare, but he was looking away.

Suddenly, everything happened at once. The calm streets took a dark turn as biters began to swarm out of the spindly forest, surrounding us. I heard Michonne warn us to split off, to fight as long as we could and run when we couldn't anymore. Carl gave me a look that almost _commanded_ me to choose the latter, but I cast him a dark glare and pulled out my knife, shifting Judith onto my hip and lunging for the nearest biter.

"Goddammit!" I heard Carl curse when I stabbed the biter through the eye, but it kept reaching for me. I sunk the blade deeper and it went limp. I glanced back to see Michonne giving Carl a brief disappointed look and I almost smiled.

I didn't have time to revel in that, however, as I was a little too slow to dodge the next biter looking for fresh meat. Its rotting hand grabbed on to my sleeve and began to pull me forward with all its might. With Judith occupying my other arm, there was little more I could do that trying to kick and pull myself free. The cadaver tugged me closer and closer, its wormy teeth snapping closer and closer to my neck each time I struggled to get myself away. A shot went off and the biter dropped, limp, to the concrete.

Carl grabbed my wrist and began to run. He looked shaken at the close call, but I had to sprint to keep up with him, which wasn't easy with a baby girl on your hip. Judith was surprisingly quiet as we ran.

We went through a few yards, Carl urging me to keep up by picking up the pace, until we came across a shed in somebody's side-yard. He glanced around to see if anything was close enough to see us. I followed his gaze to the crowd of biters just barely rounding the fenced corner. Carl's grip tightened on my wrist as he shoved the door open and practically threw me inside, shutting the door quietly as he could and dropping to his knees, panting.

I was breathing just as hard at the beginning, but while mine slowed with time, Carl still looked shaken. I plopped to the floor across from him, the darkness pressing in on us as I watched him stare, wide-eyed, at me and Judith.

"…Did I ever tell you about my family's dog?" I asked in a whisper, hoping a story will calm Carl down. His breathing slowed at the sound of my voice, and he slowly shook his head. I waited as he glanced down at his gun, then back at me.

"He was the dumbest fuckin' dog in the world," I began with a grin. Carl raised his eyebrow. I continued. "Golden retriever, you'd think he'd be smart. But, the stupid little thing didn't even know how to fetch."

"Really?" I could hear humour in Carl's whisper. His eyes were brighter now, and his breathing had slowed to a steady pace. Although he still had a tight grip on his pistol, finger over the trigger, I gently laid my hand over his.

"There was this thing he'd do when my mum and I were watching TV," A biter passed with a growl, and I paused. Carl tensed, but the groans soon faded out. "He would jump up on the ottoman, right at our feet, and bite at my mum's toes. Wouldn't bite me, though. Don't know why. It was his thing."

Even though Carl didn't laugh, I at least got a smile out of him. I bounced Judith in my lap and adjusted her swaddle.

"Don't worry, honey." I reassured him softly. Carl met my eyes with an almost offended expression.

"What?"

"Shouldn't I be telling you that?" He whispered, one eyebrow raised. I grinned and held Judith closer.

"You're scared. I'm not." I pointed out cheekily. He rolled his eyes.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Carl, you're paler than a ghost. You're spooked. Don't worry about it, I don't think you're a wimp or anything. We all get freaked out sometimes." Although I was trying to put his mind at ease, Carl looked insulted. Maybe he wasn't used to being seen as weak. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, but he pushed me away.

"This is why I didn't want you to come." His voice was soft and strained. Now it was my turn to be insulted. I clutched Judy to my chest.

"Look, Grimes. I know you're... _worried_ about me, or something like that, but... You can't protect me. You're smart. You should know that by now." I responded harsher than I needed to, but I think I got the message across, considering Carl flinched. He crossed his arms, setting his pistol in his lap.

"Maybe if you'd _listened_ to me, then I wouldn't have to protect you." Carl stared me right in the eyes. Usually, the gunmetal blue in the darkness would've taken my breath away, but now I was so annoyed that I didn't even try to dwell on it.

"Stop that. I'm not going to act like a scared little kid and huddle back because you tell me to. I know how to fight, I know how to kill, and I'm not a China doll. I won't break." I couldn't believe he actually thought of me like this. I might be blowing it out of proportion, but I needed to get this through to him, once and for all.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying that it's completely fucking dumb for you to risk yourself, when...when..." Despite his agitation, Carl was at a loss for words. I narrowed my eyes.

"You're lying. You think I can't handle myself. Newsflash, Grimes, where do you think I was the past few years? Oh, that's right, I actually looked out for myself then. I know how to survive, and I don't need you tiptoeing around me like I'm on thin ice or some stupid shit like that!" My voice was rising, but I forced a harsh whisper. Judith was beginning to babble, and no matter how much I bounced her, she wouldn't calm.

While Carl tried feebly to justify himself, I stared down at Judith. A panic rose in my throat as her face began to pucker up, eyes squeezing shut.

"Carl..." I began, but it was too late. I don't know if it was our arguing or just a spur of the moment sob, but Judith began to wail as loudly as she could. Carl and I locked eyes, and just as we jumped to our feet, we heard snarls and growls begin to crowd outside the shed door.

"Fire twice, then run." I warned Carl, grabbing my own knife from my back pocket. He seemed completely against my idea, hostility still present in his expression, but he nodded and pointed his gun at the door nonetheless. I shoved the door open right as the biters began to close in.

I sunk my blade into the first corpse I saw, stepping back as it crumpled to the grass. Three more took its place, and I began to panic when I felt the biters closing in. I heard Carl shoot, but it was more than twice. I heard him curse aloud.

I glanced back, but I couldn't see Carl anywhere. I felt the age old fight or flight instinct begin to take over, and my luck was running out in the fight department. I cleared as many biters as I could, maybe half a dozen, without them touching Judith. I was extremely glad that I had the leather jacket on, or else I'd be bitten several times over.

I turned on my heel and shoved through the two beginning to press in behind me. The biters stumbled back and I took off running towards the street. I couldn't feel anything and felt light as air, but all that mattered right now was the baby I still had clutched in my arms. She was as out of breath as I was, bouncing against my chest as I ran. Nobody but biters were in sight, and I depended on my feet to lead me back to the road where we began.

I began to slow down when the biters' noise faded a little in the background, but I was still at a steady jog. My heart was racing and I hoped Carl had gotten out. I had to find Rick's group first, tell them that we were overrun.

I glanced down at Judith and saw her blood-spattered, chubby face begin to twist into a deep frown. Panicking, my mind sent me back to a memory of reading baby books to deal with my neighbor's shithead baby, and remembered that if a baby sees you frustrated or angry, it will panic as well, and begin to cry. And right now, more sound was just the opposite of what I needed. I let my lips curl into a faux smile and looked down at Judy, hoping she couldn't see the terror and hopelessness in my eyes.

Judith calmed, her balled hands relaxing and wrapping her fingers around each other. The growls pressing in on every side of me made me clutch the tiny body closer to my chest, my feet moving faster than I thought was humanely possible.

Figures began to appear from the dark as I approached the crossroads. I picked up my speed into a run again, heading towards the upright figures and hoping that this time, they weren't more biters.

I slowed down as neared Rick's group, panting too hard to get words out. But, once they saw the blood-drenched Judith and I, they didn't seem to need words. Either that, or, considering Carl had gotten back before me and was already speaking animatedly to his dad. I didn't realize how terrified I must have looked until Carol pulled me aside.

My hearing was buzzing, and I could still hear biter growls in the back of my mind. They drowned out Carol's words, but I could read her lips well enough to know to nod when she finished speaking. She gently took Judith from my arms. I was glad I wasn't responsible for her now, but from the amount of blood and gore on both of us, I wished I never was.

I was still in a slight state of shock when Carl grabbed my arm. I whirled around, ready to grab my knife. He stepped back and let go, but he still had his eyes narrowed.

"What the hell." Carl glared at me. I didn't understand what he was asking, and in my disturbed state, I only shrugged and shook my head with wide eyes.

"I told you to stay back. Why, out of _all_ the times, did you have to not listen now?" He tried to keep his voice down, I knew, but hostility was raising his volume. Carol stepped away and pretended not to notice.

"I know how to fight…" My voice was quiet, but my vulnerable state didn't hold Carl's chastisement back.

"Apparently fucking not. You could've gotten Judith _killed_." He stressed the last word more than necessary, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. He was right.  
"I'm sorry.." I began, forcing tears back. Carl had his arms crossed. He was angrier at me than he ever was before, and I wanted to just curl up and die there.

"Whatever." After a long silence, he finally breathed out that one word, and stormed away to join Rick and the rest of his group in going to help Michonne's group. I didn't notice until now that I was clutching on to the bottom hem of my jacket, something I did often when I was little whenever I was anxious.

Instead of actually going to help, I instead sunk to the ground, right in the ditch there, and cried. _Useless_.


	11. Back to Square One

"We can't keep going on like this." Glenn's voice surprised me, breaking the uncomfortable silence cloaking us all. Though sitting on the railroad tracks in the shallow of the woods wasn't the ideal resting place, we had to stop somewhere and catch our breath. Last night had thrown us all for a loop, and it was hard getting back on our feet. Thankfully, nobody had been injured too badly, but the shock rebounded through nearly everyone.

"Like what?" Carol asked softly, glancing up from wiping blood off her arms and hands with a damp rag. All of our attentions were focused on Glenn, all except Carl. He continued to stare at his feet with a frown set in his face. I felt that it was almost completely my fault, but I didn't say anything, just wrapped my arms around myself tighter.

"You know… Running around like this. We need to find someplace safe, where we can hunker down and stay for more than a night. We need to start looking for an actual… I don't know, community… instead of just wandering and hoping we'll come across something worthwhile." Glenn drew his fingers over Maggie's hair as he spoke. His wife lay across the ground with her head in his lap, eyes staring at the darkening evening sky as she listened. I shifted and tapped my fingers on the rusted bars of the railroad track restlessly.

"He's right." Rick spoke up before anyone else could. He, unlike the others, was leaning against a thick-barked tree while observing. He gave Glenn a brief nod.

"We need to start looking for town, or a neighborhood, or even a group of homes where we can set up camp. So far, we've been ambling along the roads aimlessly. If we keep going that way, we're bound to lose a sense of purpose. I say we head to D.C," Rick cast a glance at Abraham, who raised his eyebrows in surprise, but nodded nonetheless. "And see what we can find there. No doubt somebody- _anybody_ \- would have the sense to set themselves up in the capital."

"Well said." Abraham agreed. Rosita, beside him, shrugged slightly with her arm propped against her knee to keep her head up. Eugene, however, said nothing.

Before I could speak, Tara vocalized my thoughts. "What if we don't find anything there?"

"We keep moving. Same as we always do. There's more land, more places we haven't been yet. There's got to be safety out there somewhere. We just have to find it." Rick had the same authority in his voice as he always did, the tone that didn't make me surprised that he was a sheriff's deputy before. A bitter, guilty feeling squeezed my stomach when I glanced over at Carl, wearing his dad's hat. I decided to look away.

Michonne stood up, adjusting her sword's strap. She swept her gaze around the entire group, then began to look thoughtful, turning her back to us while peering through the brush towards the main road. While this confused me, I wasn't kept in suspense for long.

"Rick," She began. Her trail of thought seemed to wander back to the present while she spoke. "How far is it from D.C.?"

Sasha answered for Rick, having been staring at the road map for about five minutes now. "A day or two's travel. On foot. Less if we find a car." She hardly even glanced up while responding.

"Then we'll start moving. Carl," His son jumped when Rick mentioned his name. I guess he didn't count on the dark glare he gave him, since Rick seemed a little taken aback when Carl looked towards him. However, he continued anyway. "I need you to be on the lookout for any type of shelter."

"Fine." Carl grumbled, turning his head and staring back at his boots. I almost felt responsible for his sour mood, but there was no way I'd say that. Instead, I kept silent. Beside me, Jackson shifted and put his arm around me, whispering to me softly.

"Are you alright? You and Carl have been… a little weird… since-" I cut him off once Jackson mentioned Carl. My fingers knitted together tightly.

"I'm fine." I mumbled abruptly, keeping my head down and letting hair loose from my hat to veil my face. Last thing I needed was to start crying like a little kid, no matter how quiet I would be. Jackson gave me a brief hug before following the others in standing and stretching. I looked to the side just in time to make eye contact with Carl.

He blinked, then narrowed his eyes and turned away. My stomach gave me another twinge of guilt, and I forced it down. I stood up before it could get to me, and got myself moving just to give myself something to think about. I took a deep breath and stepped past Carl, following Jackson towards the main road, where everyone was already gathering. I peeked back over my shoulder and saw Carl staring at me like he was going to say something, but stayed quiet and looked away once he saw me watching. I cursed myself silently.

Night was falling by the time Daryl had found a place to stay; A rickety barn a little ways into the forest he'd discovered off on his own. It would hold up, but seeing as more rain was looking to be on its way, I was doubting how long it would hold. However, I didn't voice my thoughts, and merely followed along behind Tara as we headed down the overgrown dirt path.

Nobody really spoke as we geared up for the night, securing the barn. Each of us settled in our own corners. Carl seemed to move as far away from me as he could, and I would be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't mind. It hurt to see him blatantly ignoring me. Jackson caught me staring at him with a hangdog look and gave me a supportive smile, lying down beside me. Unlike everyone else, who began to attempt sleep once the sun went down and the rain started falling, I sat there, awake, and stared up at the crossing boards on the ceiling. While I noticed that neither Carl nor Sasha were asleep, I made comment on neither one.

The rain fell down between the slats, making a steady dripping sound on the floorboards of the middle of the barn. Carl turned on his side, facing towards me. His eyes stared right past me. I waved slightly; No reply. Figures.

I contemplated stepping past everyone (pathetic, I know) to try to talk to him, but I deemed the thought too desperate and pushed it away. Instead, even though I wasn't the least bit tired, I let myself slump down and curled on to my side. I was facing the back of Jackson's head, and simply stared at the dark brown strands of hair until my mind finally sunk into a sleeplike state.

It was very early morning the next day when my eyes finally opened. I didn't sleep, not enough to actually be considered sleeping, but rather a quick nap. Most of the night before was spent either studying the veins and blotches of colour and light of the inside of my eyelids, or glaring pointlessly up at the loose boards knitted together to form a ceiling. There were a few instances where somebody would get up and move around, but I thought nothing of it. Wasn't my business, besides.

Once I had fully accepted that I was awake and would remain that way, I pushed myself up to a sitting position. A quick surveying of the room assured that I wasn't the first up, judging by the amount of blank spaces and missing people. From then on, it took about half an hour (I'm estimating, I've got no idea what time it was) for everyone else to awaken. There was minimal conversation, and while mostly everyone was just idling around, it caught my notice that neither Maggie nor Sasha had returned.

Right as I wondered this, my silent questions where answered. The barn door was pushed open slightly. I glanced up at the sudden noise and saw Maggie peeking in, a concerned look on her face.

"Hey…" She began, pushing the door open a little more to step in. I pushed myself to my feet and my hand rested on the hilt of my knife when I saw a man behind her I didn't recognize that surely wasn't there before. Maggie was staying in front of him as she walked. "Everyone…"

Maggie stepped to the side, giving us all a better view of the newcomer. Sasha was directly behind him. "This is Aaron."

Everyone drew their weapons immediately, giving the room a sudden burst of movement. Daryl strode past the three and ducked outside momentarily, looking back and forth. While the others began to close in on them, Maggie rushed to explain. "We met him outside, he's by himself. We took his weapons and we took his gear."

Daryl frisked the newcomer in search of any hidden weapons, but found none. Sasha pushed the barn door shut once more. Aaron looked rather uncomfortable, and I could see why. An entire group pointing their guns at you simultaneously wasn't the best situation in the world.

"…Hi." Aaron spoke awkwardly. Judith began to cry. A few of us dropped their weapons and I let my hand slide off my knife handle. Carl took his baby sister from Rick and began to shush her. Rick now turned his attention towards Aaron, who stepped forward hesitantly with one hand outstretched for an attempted friendly handshake.

"It's nice to meet you." Anyone who had dropped their weapons previously had them raised again now.

"You said he had a weapon?" Aaron withdrew his attempted handshake as Rick stared him right in the eye. Maggie nodded briefly and walked towards Rick, handing him a small gun. Rick inspected it, then shoved it in the back of his jeans. God, I don't understand why people do that with their guns, but whatever. "There something you need?"

Sasha interjected before Aaron could reply. "He has a camp nearby. He wants us to audition for membership."

 _Audition_? Was it a goddamned drama club?

"I… wish there was another word." Aaron explained awkwardly, keeping his hands up. "Audition makes it sound like we're some kind of a dance troupe."

"It does," I whispered to Jackson. He nodded, his hands in his pockets. He apparently wasn't threatened by this new guy in the least.

"That's only on Friday nights." Aaron said in a casual tone. Nobody laughed.

"I- Um, it's not a camp. It's a community. I think you all would make valuable additions." Jackson and I exchanged a glance at these words. "But, it's not my call."

"My job is to convince you all to follow me back home." When he saw everyone's disbelieving stares, Aaron continued. "I know. If I were you, I wouldn't go either. Not until I knew exactly what I was getting in to."

He glanced back. "Sasha, could you hand Rick my pack? Front pocket, there's an envelope. There's no way I could convince you to come with me just by talking about our community. That's why I brought those."

At about this time, I began to zone out. This place, whatever it was, was no doubt just another icing-covered lie. I'd heard stories about a so-called sanctuary called Terminus, and this sounded like a copy-past of that layer of hell. It wasn't my decision whether we went there or not, I didn't care. But I'd be ready if everything fell to fuck all in the first two minutes. I knitted my fingers together as I listened mindlessly to Aaron and Rick.

As I listened to the newcomer talk, something sprung to a realization in my mind. Why this guy was untrustworthy, why this all sounded like a blatant trap, was because of his friendly tone. He sounded like an infomercial guy: he was trying too hard to be convincing. By the sound of it, it was gonna be his demise.

"The next picture, you'll see the gates." Aaron began, and I heard movement. Rick was striding towards him. I closed my eyes and looked away. I knew what was coming even before the punch landed and Aaron fell to the ground. This is why we can't have nice things, I swear.

Everyone rushed forwards at once. Daryl checked to see if Aaron was still conscious, or dead, or something along those lines. I leaned against the wall with Jackson and stayed back, out of the crowd.

Once everyone had covered from the dull shock, Rick began speaking in a low tone with Michonne. From where I was, I couldn't make out what either of them were saying, but Michonne was tipped off. Rick blew her off almost instantly and told Carl to do something I couldn't hear either, then announced, "Everybody else, we need eyes in every direction. They're coming for us. We might not know how or when, but they are."

He's blowing this way out of proportion is what I think, but I wouldn't tell him. Michonne met my eyes when she saw the same unamused expression on my face and slowly shook her head. I shrugged and glanced at Rick, giving her the look of "what can we really do, anyways".

Carol and Daryl were already setting to work on tying the unconscious Aaron up, and Maggie began to speak with Rick. Carl was going through the guy's pack on a table near us, and Jackson was observing everything he pulled out an inspected. Finally, he got to a fire-engine red plastic gun, and Jackson, who was leaning against the wall beside me, let out a quiet grunt, intrigued.

"What?" I mumbled, glancing over at him. Jackson cocked his head, as if he was trying to understand something.

"That's not a real gun." He muttered back. "Unless a flare gun counts as a one. But why would that dude need a flare gun out here?"

I pondered that for a moment too, but kept drawing blanks on reasonable explanations. Rick approached the table, asked Carl what he found. Carl handed the plastic gun to his dad and explained that he'd never seen one like that before, making Jackson let out a soft snort of amusement and mumble "dumbass" to himself.

Rick picked it up and inspected it. Then, without offering any explanation, gave a dark look towards Aaron and began to head over to him. Carl shot a glare at Jackson once his dad left. "I heard that, you know."

"The boy can hear!" Jackson threw his hands up and let them fall back down limply in a "hallelujah" sort of gesture. I was a bit surprised by the nasty tone Jackson was harbouring. "What a fuckin' miracle."

Before Carl could reply with a comeback of his own, Jackson explained, "It's a flare gun, by the way."

Carl only huffed and turned his back to the both of us, giving me a glare first. I tipped my hat down in an attempt to shrink and looked away. Jackson made a _tch_ sound and shook his head.

"That was a right cross there, Rick." Aaron was smiling, even though he'd just gained his consciousness.

"Don't get hung up over him, Bethy." Jackson mumbled to me, speaking over Aaron and Rick's voices. I drew myself up and brushed hair out of my face, feeling myself get defensive almost instantly.

"I'm not." I could've probably held back on my harsh tone, but I let it happen freely. Jackson wasn't phased and rolled his eyes.

"What'd you even do to upset him to turn him into a huge dick all of a sudden?" I ignored Jackson, but wasn't focused enough to zero in on the other debate going on either. Instead, I just stared at Carl, letting myself do so. So what if he noticed?

"If it's not words, if it's not pictures, what _would_ it take to convince you that this was for real?" Aaron protested. I continued to think of my own snarky answers to his words, but said none aloud.

"What if I drove you to the community? All of you?" This sentence stood out alone to me, and I actually looked up in surprise. What if… What if this was for real? "We leave now, we'll get there by lunch."

While I was beginning to wonder the possibilities, conflicting my thoughts on whether or not this could actually be true, it seemed that the group had come to a new debate. Now I was just hoping that Rick wouldn't shoot this guy before we found out if this place was legitimate.

"Your way's dangerous, mine isn't." Rick seemed so sure of himself, but Michonne wasn't going to let up. She never did, and she was set in getting her way this time.

"Passing up someplace where we could live?" Michonne asked. "Where _Judith_ could live? That's pretty dangerous."

Yeah, he was going to allow Michonne to check this out. I knew it.

Soon, three other people had agreed to go with her- Glenn, Rosita, and Abraham. I kind of wanted to go as well, but I decided to stay here. I didn't know what they'd find.

While they filed out, Rick turned to the rest of us. "Alright, groups of two, I want everyone to stay within eyeshot!"

Everyone seemed to immediately pair up with somebody. Jackson and I glanced at each other and slowly trailed behind the line of the others heading out the door. I felt uneasy leaving Rick and Aaron in the same room alone, but I followed Jackson nonetheless.

Eventually, once Michonne and her group were spotted heading back down the main road, we were allowed to leave our posts and regroup in the barn. Jackson and I had gotten the worst hideout, in a willowy oak tree with gnarled branches that were a bitch to try and sit on. Both of us were happy to be leaving that tree behind as we climbed back down and followed the rest into the barn.

Cans and boxes of food brought by Michonne, Glenn, Rosita, and Abraham were piled on the floor a few yards away from Aaron. Turns out he wasn't lying. A little bit of a smile flickered on my lips when I realized we wouldn't have to kill anybody today. Or at least, for now.

Jackson and I stayed by the door in a lookout sort of position as Rick investigated the large amount of food brought back. Everyone was circled around the heap. Rick picked up a can at random, it seemed, and turned back to Aaron.

"This… this is ours now." He was trying to make himself clear, that was certain, but with Aaron being held in a hostage sort of situation, I don't think it mattered much anymore to be acting frightening. Aaron only nodded willingly.

"There's more than enough." He assured in a tired sounding voice. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"It's ours, whether or not we go to your camp." Damn it, Rick.

"What… What do you mean? Why wouldn't you go?" Carl spoke up with a look of disbelief on his face. Jackson rolled his eyes beside me, but I actually agreed. All signs pointed to positivity here, and it's not like it would be difficult to take them down if they happened to actually be hostile.

"If he were lying…" Michonne pointed out. "Or if he wanted to hurt us. But he isn't. And he _doesn't_."

"We need this." I was almost surprised by the demanding ferocity in her voice, the certain look in her eyes. Michonne had her heart set on safety here. "And we're going. _All of us_."

"Somebody say something if they feel differently."

"I don't know, man," Daryl shook his head, moving his hands around idly. "This barn smells like horse shit."

Finally, the look in Rick's eyes softened. "Yeah," He looked from Michonne to Daryl. "We're going."

A few minutes later, after Michonne and Rick had forced information on Aaron's camp out of him, Rick decided we'd be taking Route 23. Even though Aaron assured us that 16 was cleared and 23 was _not_ , Rick was dead set on that road. I swear, his arrogance… it would get him killed one day. However, I stayed silent.

"We leave at sundown." Rick announced, looking down at the map he spread on the floor.

"We're doing this at night?" Sasha asked. I could feel her uncertainty; I felt the same way. I thought we'd all established that night wasn't the best time for travel anymore.

"Look, I know it's dangerous, but it's better than riding up to the gates during the day. If it isn't safe, we need to get gone before they know we're there."

I dug my fingernails into my palm. I was eager to leave now, to get out of this quite literal shithole of a barn. Though it looked as if not everyone was as on board with this as I was, I wished Rick would pull his head out of his ass and let us get moving. The sooner we get there, the better.

"Tell me where the camp is, we'll leave right now." Rick gave Aaron a threatening stare. Aaron hesitated, then looked away.

"Guess it's gonna be a long night." Rick glanced back towards the rest of the group. "Eat. Rest if you can."


	12. Cry Wolf

The wait for the sun to set was agonizingly long and, quite honestly, _boring_. Around noon, Jackson produced a deck of cards and him and I played a simple version of Go-Fish, until that became just as boring and tasteless. Soon, around three o'clock, I tried to take a nap. However, fifteen minutes (give or take) passed, and my brain refused to let me rest in the slightest bit. I know it sounds extremely cheesy and kind of… overly-attached-ish, but I found myself thinking about Carl a lot.

I sighed and sat up. Jackson was carving something into the wooden planks on the walls beside me, heard me sigh, and gave me a sideways glance. I gave him a half-assed smile, which resulted in an annoyed huff from him.

"Look," He began, falling to a crouch beside me. "You know I don't care for that kid, but I know you do."  
"What ki-" Jackson cut me off, and lowered his voice.

"Get your head out of your ass. If you really like him, and the feeling's mutual, go talk to him. Get this shit straightened out between you two or someone's going to die out of _spite_ , 'kay?" Before I could respond, he pointed towards where Carl had his back to us, bouncing Judith on his lap.

"There's hardly anyone else in the barn right now besides us. Go talk to him, now. If he won't listen, or if he refuses to forgive you, then that's a problem. He either loves ya, or he doesn't. Alright?"

I couldn't get a word in. Jackson kept talking.

"And if you can't deal with that, then we'll stay here. They can leave tonight, we'll stay here and go in the opposite direction a few hours after they leave."

I opened my mouth, then shut it. I pursed my lips awkwardly, then nodded. "Agreed. Any… uh, any idea what I should say?"

"That's your department, Bethy." Jackson stood back up and leaned against the wall, shoving his knife into the holster.

I stood up beside him, but hesitated. Something in my gut instinct told me that his reaction to all of this could very well change everything. I looked back to Jackson for support. He gave me a bit of a smile and nodded in Carl's direction. I took a deep breath and strode over to him.

"Carl?" My voice sounded stronger than I thought. At least it didn't give out the fact that my legs and stomach felt all wobbly, like gelatin. "Can I talk to you?"

He gave me a loose shrug. I refused to let my insecurity get the best of me and circled around to face him, planting myself there. He really had no other choice than to look at me, besides Judy. He chose Judy.

"I need you to hear me in this…" I glanced over his head to Jackson, who was pretending not to listen in but was obviously trying to eavesdrop. I was going to force myself to do this. I had to follow Jackson's example here and be strong about this. He wouldn't listen any other way.

" _I know_ I fucked up, okay? I know I didn't protect you, or Judith, the best I could, okay, I know that. But I _was scared_. Maybe you don't think I would've been, but I was. I never had to… to protect a baby before. I thought I was going to get her killed. You thought that too. But just know that when I say I tried my damndest to keep your sister alive, I mean it."

Carl opened his mouth to protest, a sour look on his face. I clicked my tongue and he shut his mouth.

"That's fine if you don't forgive me. It's al-fucking-right if you don't care about me, it's even fine if you hate me. But what you need to know here that if you decide you don't want me here anymore, you don't get another chance. I'll be gone and you will _never_ see me again. Got it?"

He started to talk again, but I decided I wasn't done. Jackson seemed a little impressed, from the quick glance I stole across the room.

"I get that your baby sister is your number one priority, that's one-hundred percent reasonable. I know you care about her more than anyone else, and I'm not going to make you feel bad about that. But if you won't forgive me for this, I'm leaving with Jackson tonight."

"Okay." Carl finally looked defeated. I felt a little bad at his worn out expression. He took a shaky breath and looked down.

"So what is it. _Do you want me here or not?_ " When Carl hesitated on his answer, I backed up against the wall, rubbing my hand over my face.  
"It's.. It's fine, Carl." Something broke inside me. I expected rage, maybe tears, but I honestly felt hollow. Light, even, the downy-feathers filling my head lifting me up. I felt rather cold, just my stomach. I marched past him, hoping everyone saw. I didn't care anymore.

"Come on, Jackson. Let's… let's go. Right now." I barely registered my words as they came out of my mouth. I grabbed my bag and shoved the few things I had taken out back into it. _I hated myself. I fucking hate myself._

I wondered if it was obvious. I threw my bag over my shoulder, nearly running towards the door.

 _I wanted to stab myself._

 _I fucking hate myself._

 _I fucking hate myself._

 _I fucking hate myself._

 _I FUCKING HATE MYSELF._

"Danny! Wait!" I heard rapid footsteps behind me, a hand grab my arm, holding on tight to stop me. It took several seconds for my brain to realize that it wasn't Jackson. It was Carl. He spun me around and grasped my other wrist, staring at me intensely. I knew by now that the few people in the room- Rosita, Maggie, Glenn, and Sasha- were staring at us. Jackson was… where was he?

The look in Carl's eyes would've shocked me, but like I said. Hollow.

However, his grip was tight and he wouldn't let me go. Neither of us said anything for a few moments, until I finally felt tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't let them fall, though. I wouldn't.

"Don't leave."

"I have to." My voice was quiet, shaky.

"You're not leaving." Carl sounded like he was trying to convince himself. "I will hold you here until tonight, _you aren't leaving._ "

"Okay." I whispered, tears finally falling.

 _What an overreactive brat, right?_

I was still quivering and silently crying when Carl finally let go of my wrists, only to pull me forward into a hug. I never thought he'd want to hug me again. _Was this just sympathy?_

 _Why am I doubting this so much?_

"It's okay, Danny." He was quiet, trying to let the words reach only me. I didn't move. I didn't try to hug him back. I just wanted to leave. Was this the emotional toll everyone gets from loving someone?

"It's okay."

The ride to Aaron's camp that night was awkwardly quiet. For me, however. Jackson didn't talk much to anyone anyways, and Carl couldn't let off that anything happened between us. That's alright, though. I was so full of so many conflicting emotions that I needed a little time to cool off.

I stared out the window at the passing trees. I wanted to get to that town soon, really soon. Maybe it would give me a chance to slip out, leave…

Did I want to leave? I couldn't tell. I'd give it a day in this place. If we survived past the gates.

"Hey." I heard Carl sit down next to me. He had Judith with him, her babbling could be heard everywhere in the R.V. Carl bounced her a little bit, obviously waiting for my reply that wouldn't come. I only tucked my arms around my chin, focusing my attention on the dark landscape outside.

"Are you okay?" He sounded a little worried. I felt like I was going crazy. I was beating myself up over something that happened a few days ago. Carl had even said he'd forgiven me, nearly a dozen times. I was just psyching myself out and didn't know how to stop. I had to talk to someone about this.

Suddenly, the R.V. came to a screeching halt. That got my attention enough to tear my eyes away from the window, and look up towards the front. Oh, fuck.

(Roughly an hour later…)

"Well…That was wild…" Jackson helped me off of the steps of the R.V, a dumb grin on his face. I was still shaken up over the giant detour we had to take in order to avoid the biter-infested highway that Aaron, Michonne, Glenn, and Rick had ran into headfirst. My stomach was buzzing with anxious bees. I hoped they were okay.

"Definitely an adventure." Carl agreed. Although he and Jackson would never see eye-to-eye, I think they were trying to get along. That is, no matter how much Jackson tried to aggravate him, Carl never really lashed out.

"Bethy?" Jackson was still holding on to my arm. I glanced up from my boots to see that he and Carl had led me over to a door marked "supply room" in the dark alley. It was eerie, that's for sure.

"I'm alive, don't worry." I assured him, forcing a smile. Jackson knew better than to be relieved, but he let me go nonetheless. I stood a little stronger by myself, and peered around.

It was darker than when we started out, but then again, I spent most of the detour with my eyes shut and my hands clutching the seat. Not the most noble, of course, but I didn't have any alternate option at the moment. Along with the darkness, it was rather quiet. I followed the two of them inside, to wait tensely for the rest of the group's arrival.

Daryl had stayed outside as a lookout, and after about twenty minutes, a dull knocking from the outside sounded. Basically, everybody shot outside at once, but Jackson and I shot each other a look. He stayed inside, while I exited last. With practically nobody special to greet, I merely leaned against the damp brick wall and watched as everyone had their excitable reunion.

Maggie, who had run out first, immediately embraced her husband. Carl ran up to his dad and hugged him as well. Aaron followed behind. He looked rather worried, and was glancing about in every direction. "Eric? Eric?"

"In here!" Eric called from the supply garage. Aaron called his name again and hurried through the door, shoving it open and disappearing inside. Jackson slipped out moments later with a mildly confused looked on his face, and took his place leaning against the wall beside me.

Rick, after a quick hug from Carol, strode over to the door to follow Aaron. Jackson and I exchanged a glance that proved that neither of us thought any good would come from this. Awhile after Rick had entered the building, the rest of the group began to trickle back into it slowly, until only Jackson and I were left.

"Should we bail?" Jackson peered down the ominous-looking alleyway. I stared at him, shocked.

"Why… why would we go?"

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Come on, Bethy. This place that this guy is talking about? Either it's pure folly, or it's like that place we heard about, Terminus. Nothing good can come of it, promise me. I've been in places like that, and it'll fall apart at the seams right when you get settled, and people will die."

"But what if it's different?" I protested, my hands curling up. Jackson used to get like this every time we'd make a major change; I never knew if it was the high price of commitment, or just the terror of potentially losing somebody you care about. (I thought it was a mix of both).

"It won't be." Jackson shook his head, staring up at the cloudy sky. Fear hung in the back of his eyes. "We're both going to die someday, but I swear, I'll prolong it as much as possible. And if that means keeping us from going to this… place… then you'll bet I'll do it."

"Jackson," I began, but the door was pushed open. Maggie peeked her head out, then nodded us both inside. We fell silent. Jackson pushed past me to get into the building. I sighed and followed.

The next morning, we were on the road once the sun came up. While we were assured that it wouldn't take long to get to Alexandria from the hovel we had stayed at the night before, it felt never-ending. But, at the same time, everything was happening way too fast, if that makes sense.

Jackson didn't leave last night. Although I was expecting him to be gone in the morning with a scrawled note explaining where to meet him if I wanted to escape as well, he was still there, reluctant as ever to travel. However, now that we were nearly there, I could see the conflict in his emotions as he shuffled his cards repeatedly.

"You doing okay?" Now that a night's rest had cleared my head, my only concern was keeping Jackson on board with the whole 'new community' thing. I was on the fence with it myself, but I figured, if we have this one shot, why not take it? We could always leave if the place goes to rot too quickly.

"Fine." Jackson shoved the deck of cards back into the worn cardboard box, then dropped that into his bag. I glanced out the window behind him just as the R.V. came to a stop.

And, just like that, we were back on the side of the streets again. The R.V., apparently, needed another battery. Despite Abraham's assured notion before that we could make it, the R.V. had died a little too early. Now, Jackson and I were sitting across from each other in the road, staring off into the distance. Neither of us wanted to have a conversation, and I had the slight feeling that Carl was still avoiding me. Either that, or he was keeping up the idea that we shouldn't talk too much around his dad.

Five minutes, barely, passed. Glenn had gotten the R.V. running again, due to a spare battery that he produced out of thin air. Or a secret compartment, either way. Jackson and I were the last to get on, again. It seemed almost like a pattern. Once you're an outcast, you never really get to fit in. But that was fine.

When the R.V. stopped again, I knew we were there. My stomach was doing its normal tap-dancing routine of anxiety as I watched everyone else deboard. Jackson even went out before I did, leaving me, alone, inside the R.V. Part of me wanted to take Jackson's advice, to secretly grab him and bail. But the other half was stronger, and finally urged me outside to join the others at the towering gates.

So, this place wasn't folly, I'd give them that. The voices and laughter floating from inside was enough to convince me to stay rooted to the spot as everybody began to group together before the gates. An rustling from the bushes made everyone draw the weapons at once, including me. I had my rifle trained on the spot the noise had originated from when a opossum crawled out of it. A squeal corrupted the quiet as Daryl shot it.

I let my rifle fall against my side again. Daryl picked up the beastie by the tail as the gate opened all the way. The two men standing there looked absolutely appalled.

"We brought dinner." Daryl said nonchalantly. Aaron glanced at the other man awkwardly, then looked back at us.

"It's okay." He assured the other man. Then, gesturing to us, "Come on in, guys."

We all slowly trailed in. When the last of us (Me, obviously) had gone through the gates, they were shut tight once more. I turned back to see Aaron at the front of the group, almost like a tour guide or teacher on a class field trip.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all to turn over your weapons." The words were barely out of the man's mouth before Jackson shot me a look of 'I told you so'. I ignored him and pretended not to notice as a gripped on to the strap of my rifle almost protectively. "You stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick stepped up. He didn't look as threatening when he was holding a baby in a pink blanket, even if he did have a gun.

"It's fine, Nicholas." Aaron nodded to the man.

"If we were gonna use them, we would've started already." Rick pointed out. Again, Judy's adorable baby-ness kind of ruined the effect.

"Let them… talk to Deanna first."

"Who's Deanna?" Abraham asked loudly from the back of the cluster.

Aaron wasn't even phased. "She knows everything you'd want to know about this place."

A wave of silence washed over everybody as Aaron looked around, then settled his gaze on Rick. "Rick, why don't you start?"

I heard the groans of a biter coming from just behind the gates. They hadn't shut the second layer yet, and you could still see through the iron bars. It was about ten yards away.

"Sasha." At Rick's command, the rest of the group turned. Sasha's eyes locked on to the stumbling corpse and she raised her rifle. She barely had to aim to get a direct headshot. The biter collapsed to the ground as the film layer of the gate began to close.

"It's a good thing we're here."

"What's your name?" After an hour or so of waiting, I was brought into a living room of a house. A middle-aged woman was standing behind the couch as I entered the room, her eyes comforting to fit her warm voice. She reminded me a bit of my fourth-grade teacher.

"Uh… Elizabeth. People.. Call me Danny sometimes, too." I felt a little awkward answering with my real name, considering I haven't heard it spoken by anyone but me since my mother died, if you don't include Jackson's nickname for me.

The woman nodded, and gestured to a video camera set up beside her. "I'm Deanna Monroe. I hope you don't mind me filming this talk; I do it with all of them, don't worry."

At another gesture, I walked towards a chair set up just before a bookcase filled with books. I felt a little hesitant sitting down, but I did so anyway. I met the woman's eyes as the sat down on the couch in front of me, just out of frame from the video camera, if my guesswork was right. It felt awkward to be dirty and sweaty in front of the leader of this place, who seemed rather regal.

"How long were you out there?" I gave her a confused look, so she clarified with: "Beyond civilization, with the dead."

"Oh," I thought about it for a moment. I had no idea the date, but I had to estimate. "A… few years. On and off in places like this since it all started."

I was still amazed at this… safe zone. Not only the cleanliness of it all, but also the… humanity. Everybody was working together, laughing, it looked like the start of something, grown out of the ashes of whatever shithole the biters crawled out of.

Deanna nodded, as if in understanding. "How old are you, Elizabeth? If you're not sure, then what grade were you in last?"

"I… I think I'm fifteen, or sixteen. I'm not entirely sure, but I think I'm around sixteen." I made the wishy-washy gesture with my hand.

Deanna nodded again, studying me. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to think up a subject just to make this less awkward. Eventually, I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"How is everybody here alive?"

Deanna almost laughed; it was a polite chuckle. She looked past me, out the white curtained windows. "This place is a reservoir of its own. We survive off supplies that people bring in, and the ones our people find when they go out. I could give you the full, ten-page explanation of how Alexandria stays living, but I wouldn't want to bore you. You'd find out soon enough, just by exploring around."

With that, it seemed to be time to go. I nodded and stood up with a faked smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Monroe."  
"Call me Deanna." She smiled back. I could do nothing else but escort myself out the door.

Rick and Carl were led off by Aaron once everybody had been interviewed by Deanna. The rest of us were told to explore where we pleased. Jackson had disappeared once I had left Deanna's house, but I didn't worry too much, considering he had already handed over his weapons and he wouldn't leave without them, or without telling me. I hoped.

I didn't let it bug me too much, and headed off with the others. Everyone sort of went their separate way; a few of them followed where Rick and Carl had gone. I decided against that and instead went to investigate the neighborhoods.

I went past a rather pretty lake, with the sunshine gleaming off the water. Some people were milling about around it and enjoying their day, some with children, some without. It was interesting to see such young kids that weren't dead. Well, besides Judith, I mean.

Anyways, I came across sort of a crossroads-type street. There were three houses on the other side, which was where Rick and Carl disappeared to, and a cul-de-sac with a few homes beside it. There were two boys heading towards one of the houses, speaking animatedly to each other. I really wanted to hide in the bushes, but I knew that that was a seriously undignified way to deal with social anxiety. So, instead, I stood there like a complete idiot and watched them pass. They didn't even notice me.

Finally, after standing there and watching people go by without even a glance, I headed towards the houses near the end of the street. There was a conglomeration of our group on the porch outside, so I figured it was most likely our homestead for as long as we'd stay here. I avoided Daryl as I walked up the steps, who was skinning and gutting the opossum he had caught earlier.

I pushed myself up onto the railing, letting my feet dangle down as I looked at the peaceful community. I heard Carl's voice behind me and glanced over my shoulder.

"You can look, just be quick." My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I saw Rick. His hair was cut and his beard was shaved off… my god. He looked just as much like a baby as the one in his arms. Carl nodded and took off down the steps, avoiding Daryl's blood party just like I did. He glanced back in my direction and waved. I waved back, but he had already turned away.

Carol followed Carl. Once she had left, I swung my feet back around and hopped back on to the porch. Guess I could explore the house now.

Once I'd entered the house, I made a realization. The entire house felt way too clean, and smelled of aerosol spray, like the household cleaners that soccer moms use way too much of to distract from the fact that their children smell like dog shit. I felt rather uncomfortable, but I had to know what the rest of the home looked like.

Room to room, it all looked the same. Clean, quiet, and most of all, _normal_. Something extraordinary these days. I didn't even make it to the second floor before the lemony smell got to me and I had to go back outside. I sighed and sat back down on the porch, facing the house beside this one with my back against the wall.

Something had to happen eventually.


End file.
